


Sever and Shatter

by hoopdedoop



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 42,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3477893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoopdedoop/pseuds/hoopdedoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the dust from the religious war was still settling, it hid another, smaller incident in Gensoukyou's midst. A drunken argument at a feast goes out of hand, and Miko bites off more than she can chew.</p><p>She is quick to wonder though; was that really all there was to it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

      

# Prologue

      

      Litter from food stalls, wrappers and the occasional napkin, all mixed with the first few fallen leaves on the shrine grounds as the evening's wind grew colder.

“Everyone's so eager to come you know? As long as there's food, entertainment, all that stuff. But when it all ends, they're just as quick to leave.” Reimu complained, struggling with the deconstructed parts of the set. Still mostly intact, it was quite large, positively towering, situated at the center of the yard. Taller than the shrine's roof, it was just a bit intimidating.

“Well, at least you're here,” She followed up as Kokoro helped her balance one of the main supporting poles. With their combined effort, it eventually came loose.

“Of course we are.” Kokoro replied quietly.

“Here,” Reimu lifted it up over her shoulder. “Help me take it into the storage.”

“It was all thanks to you, that we were able to perform in the first place.” Kokoro reasoned, but Reimu didn't bother with replying, focused on the task at hand. To her, perhaps, this was all just another part of her job as the Hakurei Shrine maiden. Keep the menreiki from berserking, have her perform, put on a show, clean up afterwards.

Backing up against the storage shed, Reimu saw the towering height of the stage, still partially intact. They probably wouldn't finish up tonight.

“I would've thought at least some of your friends would've helped.” Reimu said, turning to Kokoro.

“Our friends...?” She said it like a simple repetition. Kokoro didn't look nor sound confused.

“Aren't you friends?” Reimu wasn't so surprised. “You and the Buddhist and the Taoist both. They seemed awfully concerned with you.” Thinking about it more carefully though, Reimu realized maybe it was for the best. She didn't particularly like either of them, although for different reasons, the Taoist especially she found insufferable in person.

“Well, whatever, I don't really want them hanging around here any more than necessary to be honest,” Reimu got up, shutting down whatever answer Kokoro had been considering.

“We don't think they're that bad.” Kokoro spoke as if absentminded.

Reimu scoffed. “Really? That's awfully carefree of you, isn't it?”

“...It is?” Kokoro hung her head as she followed Reimu back to the set.

“That Taoist, she was _this_ close to turning you back into a pile of masks again you know?” Reimu said, as if her own overall treatment of youkai was anything to boast about.

“Yes, but, in the end, she didn't do it.” Kokoro murmured. Reimu glanced at her. Although she still struggled with reading Kokoro a lot of the time, she appeared to be pondering.

“These days, she is quite kind to us.” Kokoro reached for a neatly organized pile of wooden planks. They had been used to decorate the outside of the tower, and they were rather heavy. _“Oof!”_ Kokoro leaned back dramatically, shifting her weight as she heisted them in her arms.

“Well, that's gotta be a first.” Reimu snarked. “You can probably reap all sorts of privileges by being looked after by someone like her though.”

Kokoro stopped as she passed Reimu. “You really don't like her, do you?” Although it was meant as a genuine question, in Kokoro's monotone, it sounded like a statement, which was also how Reimu took it.

“Well I have my reasons!” Reimu tore down the decorative sheets of fabric without checking if they had been properly loosened. “She's always sticking her nose where it doesn't belong! She may be a smooth talker, but she's nothing but a stuck-up elitist who knows nothing of the real world.”

Tearing at the sheet, now in her hands, Reimu shook it in the air, releasing dust, leaves and dirt. It had been up for many days, after all. _“...Thinking she can do and say whatever she wants... how dare she..."_ She muttered under her breath, and Kokoro wondered if Reimu was aware she was still standing right behind her.

“Maybe she's getting better though?” Kokoro thought aloud. She herself wasn't very sure.

“I wouldn't know, but I sure wouldn't mind.” Reimu seemed unusually bitter.

 _“We all change.”_ Kokoro said theatrically, staring into the sunset with the solemn expression expected of a world-worn old sage. Reimu ignored her.

 _“Even us...”_ Kokoro spoke with perfect articulation. “A miserable husk of nothingness, fueled only by despair and hopelessness, was able to change, so dramatically, so monumentally in the passing of just one summer.”

Kokoro took a dramatic pause, just a bit too long, before speaking again. “By meeting people, by knowing them, you know yourself. That is the only way to change. We changed, and it was all thanks to those around us, thanks to their dedication, their kindness, their strictness, their awareness. Miko was one of those people. If she could change us, why should not others be able to change her?”

Another pause. Reimu zoned out, just as Kokoro picked up once more. “By sharing our lives, our hardships, our stories with one other, we can understand one other, we can guide each other on _the way.”_

Reimu had folded the cloth and thrown it over her should. “So, what do you say? Wanna wrap things up for tonight and get smashed?”

 _“The perfection of transcendent wisdom. The perfection of meditation. The perfection of vigor and diligence. The perfection of forbearance. The perfection on behavior and discipline. .... The perfection of giving ...”_ Kokoro cited.

Her level of mimicry was absurdly high. If Reimu had closed her eyes then, she could have pictured it crisp and clear, the imagery of Byakuren by the altar, embedded in the harsh contrasts of cold midnight and warm candlelight, surrounded by beast and man alike.

“You should stop hanging out so much with those religious fanatics.” Reimu lectured. Did Kokoro even understand half of the things she was saying?

 _“Oh.”_ Kokoro promptly dumped the wood on the ground. “That would include you as well, though.”

Reimu sighed, worn out.

      

      

      

      Moments later, the tower was still there, and the sun had settled, as had Reimu on her porch with her booze and her cigarette, and her company.

“We're having another feast, in about 10 days. Wanna come?” Reimu asked as it came to mind.

 _“In ten days?”_ Kokoro asked, dramatically highlighting the importance of that specific period of time.

“Yeah,” Reimu confirmed, nonchalantly. “Why?”

“Ten days is no good.” Kokoro said, almost childishly. She hadn't been drinking enough to get drunk.

“So, why?” Reimu asked, just a bit curious.

“We're writing....” Kokoro started, her gaze distant. “We're writing another noh.”

“Huh, so soon?” In contrast to Kokoro's sharpness, Reimu seemed even more lax.

“Yes... This is just the beginning. We must indulge ourselves in the arts, we mustn't abandon them. Or else, we will loose ourselves again.” Kokoro's voice was quickly picking up tension.

“What about all that meeting people stuff then?” Reimu thought since Kokoro had made such a big deal out of it earlier, she should invite her.

“...It is all part of the bigger picture. But for now, these remaining days before our work's premiere, we must commit to it with our entire being, shutting ourselves away from the world, looking into ourselves... Rediscovering the ever-changing artist within us. We must perfect it, our art, our existence...” With her monotone, and her long dwindled explanations, Kokoro almost seemed to put herself in trance. 

Reimu stared at her, wondering if this was a side effect of the Buddhist practices as well. “Um, are you putting it up here at the shrine as well? In that case, you should have let me known sooner...”

“No. It is fine, we have prepared another place to perform our noh this time.” Kokoro responded.

“Well, I don't mind having it here. It brings some worshipers, at least.” Reimu grinned. “....As long as they don't know you're a youkai.” Reimu's grin stiffened.

“Perhaps. We shall consider it. But for starters, we want a more private audience.” Reimu picked up some rare warmth in Kokoro's voice.

“Oh, is that the whole ‘bonding-with-people’-part of the picture?” Things started to make a bit more sense.

Kokoro sprung up. Fans in both hands, and the fox mask of decisiveness substituting as her features, she leapt from the porch like a deer over a rose-garden fence. **_“Indeed!”_** It boomed, the voice that, at the very least, should be hers.

Reimu couldn't help but laugh, and heartily so.

Kokoro was pleased.

 ** _“Thus, they shall know us; and We shall know them! Our existences, in this hidden-away wonderland, shall thrive together, unforgotten, forever defined in each other's hearts!”_** She spun in place, with grace unsuitable for the disorderly back-drop of the empty, trashed shrine grounds.

Reimu clapped her hands. “I'll look forward to it, okay?”

      

      

      


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and nice to meet you! I'm Huppa.
> 
> Before you read, there's a few things I'd like to mention.
> 
> This is a story that takes place soon after and in some conjunction with HM, however story-wise it ties in more to SoPM than anything else. I also looked a lot at SWR and IaMP for inspiration, as well as some of the official manga. I realize it doesn't address TD much however, but I suppose I should mention this was written with Reimu's routes in mind, as opposed to any of the other heroines' routes being canon.
> 
> Lastly, as a bit of a warning I want to say that Miko will be the main character in this story, and well, this depiction is mostly drawn from a lot from her less favorable character traits as seen in canon. If this bothers you or makes you uncomfortable, I'm afraid this story may not be for you.
> 
> That's all. Thank you for reading!  
> 

       

#  Part 1 

       

       

       Summer was ending, but some remaining warmth lingered. This one was going to be the last of the summer-time feasts at the Hakurei Shrine. This time, the mix of guests was a strange one, and despite the dwindling temperatures of the season, they were many. In fact, mysteriously enough, the number of participants that had gathered were larger than they had been all summer. Although this would be highly noticeable, the more immediate consequences that this brought with itself, kept Reimu from giving it much thought. 

The guests had been naturally drawn to the shrine, and with drinks being poured and conversations well underway, no one was the wiser.

The sun was setting, the skies were clear and the winds were gentle. However, “serene” was far from the first description that would pop into anyone’s mind when describing the shrine this evening.

Normally, the feasts naturally regulated themselves. People who disliked others, people who for different reasons weren't suitable for the high spirits of celebration and socialization stayed home, far away from any gatherings.

However, that too, was different tonight.

Even on this evening, some combinations of individuals stood out more than others. A duo of aggravated voices had cut through the wall of noise and merry-making, undoubtedly with the night’s high tensions as an igniter. “Keep your hands to yourself, you disg-” “-why, can you blame me for being curious about a pretty thing like you--” 

While an argument or two might not be enough to raise a few eyebrows, those who recognized the voices had some reason to be alerted. “Y-You low-life! _I’ll fuck you up so bad you’ll-“_

Those who had not been alarmed by the yelling and name-calling, where however, by the distant rumbling sound of cracking thunder. _“-wish you never left hell!”_

Other than the usual conversations left undisturbed, a murmur of laughter and excitement arose among those who were paying attention to their surroundings. Miko smiled, amused, and watched from a comfortable distance with a drink in hand. She hadn't needed to say anything, Futo was already on her feet. With a few steady leaps, she was in the cross-fire. “Assuredly my ladies, this is not the time for-”

“Oh, get lost.” The retort came with a sugar sweet voice and a glare. Suika stabbed a sharp finger against her chest, “This has nothing to with you. This is between me and _her,”_ Suika gestured to behind Futo, who, at that moment, felt another sharp stab, this time forcing her to the side. “She’s right, Futo. Fuck off!”

Futo tried to stand her ground. “Please, be considerate.” She grabbed Tojiko's shoulder, trying to edge her away from the increasingly amused Suika, who seemed to have already dropped whatever original intentions. Tojiko too, was fast to change her target. She shoved Futo away from her. “Oh, will you shut up?”

But they got no further than that. _“Suika!”_ Reimu came, stomping forwards, with no concern for the whoever may be in her way. Her guests spilled their drinks and soiled their dresses.

_“How-many-times-do-I-have-to-tell-you-”_ Suika backed out to the porch as Reimu stalked after her, swatting at her, both missing and hitting. “No _skirt-flipping!”_ She shouted in her face. Reimu hadn't forgotten about last time. She still hadn't finished filling up the crater left by the mountain god.

With their audience’s focus yet again changed, the new duo of unintentional entertainers brought the spotlight with them as they chased to the front of the shrine. Tojiko had calmed down considerably, so Futo managed to bring her along, further down the porch and behind shut sliding doors. Only someone close by could hear their hushed conversation. _“She was the one who-”_ “... I realize, however...” _“Ugh...”_ There was a slight shuffle.

“Perhaps, another drink may be in order?”

“...”

Miko watched them disinterestedly until both silhouettes disappeared behind the paper walls to the next room. They’ll be a while, she thought. Oh well. It had been fun while it lasted. But now she was without entourage...

There was always Niang Niang, but last time Miko had seen Seiga, she had been outside, confronting the Shinigami with what seemed like a harmless conversation. She had Yoshika with her. Miko had only joined their conversation in a passing. Their exchange had ended with “Oh, Missy, see here, I’m off duty right now!” As Miko saw it, it was best to leave it at that.

But ah, what are feasts for, if not for meeting new people?

Among the numerous faces present, many were unfamiliar to her. Among those she knew was the famous scholar and writer, Hieda no Akyuu, currently she appeared to be speaking with the principal of the temple school. Miko would have been quite interested in conversing with the two of them, however, they were seated near other village associates, and this included the temple youkai. Miko had no interest in provoking them this evening.

Particularly the nun, Hijiri's foremost student, she wanted to stay away from if she could.

The Shrine Maiden appeared busy but Miko felt no real need to speak with her either, even if she was an entertaining character. She was entertaining, but she was also quite the mouthful.

Rather than any of the people she already knew, Miko was interested in a formidable-looking lady she had spotted when arriving. Formidable-looking, yes, but to boot she lacked entirely one of the fundamental desires. She lacked the envy of the dead. Thus, Miko had been considering exchanging a few words with her if the opportunity arose. 

If there was ever anyone who glowed with unquestionable confidence in Gensoukyou, it was Toyosatomimi no Miko. Effortlessly embracing that, she detected and approached the striking lady in blue and white, currently hearing in on an exchange between her friends and acquaintances over a drink near the center pillars of the room. With light steps and a light clearing of her throat, she leaned in and lightly brushed her arm. “Excuse me, Ma’am, mind if I settle down here?”

Next to her was an open space, more than enough for one or even two people. But what’s a great conversation starter, if not this? Turning to Miko, was a woman of a refined yet relaxed stature. The look in her eyes was mild, but the curve in her otherwise dim smile was cunning. She was beautiful, but in such a way that one may feel humbled, rather than awed or envious.

That was Toyosatomimi no Miko's first impression of Saigyouji Yuyuko.

“Oh, yes, I don’t mind,” her voice was sweeping and light.

But before she could introduce herself, Miko was called out to.

“ _Your highness,_ how pleasant that you choose to settle with us this evening!”

A slight snort of a giggle. _“Indeed,”_

To Miko's left, there sat two tengu. One of them, Miko recognized. “Ah, if I remember correctly, you are from Bunbunmaru publications...?”

Aya raised her free hand flamboyantly. “Oh, for her great highness to have remembered me, such an honor!” Her voice was mockingly sugar sweet, but her eyes held no malice.

Miko laughed heartily. “Miss Shameimaru, was it?”

Aya raised her drink in the air after a mouthful, “Oh please, call me Aya!” She proclaimed, bubbly. Aya's companion poured herself a drink absentmindedly. She seemed a little less thriving in the current situation.

“So, Miss Aya, are you here on the job or...?” Miko asked, genuinely curious. It was always good to know who was listening, and with what ears.

Aya just laughed. It was hard to tell if she was drunk or just in high spirits. Most likely both. “Officially, no, but,” She gestured with broad movements to her surroundings, “You know how it is! As a reporter, I’m never not on the job. Work never really leaves my mind. It’s a business of passion after all...” Aya laid her arm around the girl next to her. “Isn't that right?”

The answer she got was a blunt “Sure, yeah, whatever you say.”

With a grin, Aya was about to retort, Miko decided to interfere. “I don’t think we've spoken before, but-”

“Oh, we've spoken...” This other girl next to Aya, who appeared equally intoxicated but whose personality seemed to swing the opposite direction when so. She seemed bright, yet wore a wry expression.

“I’m Himekaidou Hatate of Kakashi Spirit News. I wrote an article on you last year,” She downed the drink she had just poured.

“Oh, right, Miss Himekaidou! I remember now,” Miko still had no recollection of her. She was sweet-looking girl nonetheless, and she seemed much more pleasant than Aya. She also seemed much less intent in making friends.

“I don’t think the two of you have met,” Aya scooted forward. “This lovely lady here is, miss Saigyouji Yuyuko,”

Miko turned her attention back to the woman next to her, who in turn smiled and lowered her head just a bit before speaking. “Pleased to meet you... your highness?” Yuyuko chuckled, with her hand on her lips. Although she seemed pleased, she was hard to read.

“The pleasure is all mine... And, let me introduce myself properly. I’m Toyosatomimi no Miko,” In contrast, Miko remained upright introducing herself.

“Oh yes, I've heard of you... See, I like to keep an eye on the world of a living. It’s a hobby of mine. Today again I’m here at the shrine, hoping to catch up on the latest events...” Miko grew aware of how Yuyuko's exceedingly gentle and aloof demeanor was something consistent. In combination with the cloudy look in her eyes and her soothing voice, she had a tranquilizing effect on her surroundings. Despite being able to hear the contrasting sharp clarity of Yuyuko's mind, Miko let her guard down.

“So, you are not of the living world?” As Miko had suspected, Yuyuko was not what one would call a regular human; but even so, she was somewhat surprised to hear she was indeed, dead. 

“I watch over the spirits in the netherworld. They call me the Princess of the dead.” Yuyuko responded, with no change in tone what-so-ever.

Miko was just a little taken back. “The shrine maiden here, she knows quite the interesting people, doesn't she?”

This triggered some unusual responses from the tengu across of her. Hatate scoffed while Aya right out laughed. Miko hand’t the time to address this though, as she sensed someone standing above her. Yuyuko's attention shifted immediately. “Oh Youmu, I was just wondering when you would get back,”

Youmu didn’t respond. “Sorry but, it seems someone has taken my seat.” She said instead, with the barest of minimum politeness, while looking straight at Miko.

“I wasn't aware the seats were pre-ordinated around here. Were you, miss Saigyouji?” Miko was sitting just next to Yuyuko, and Youmu was not about to step aside and sit by Miko's side, by pure principle. Yuyuko smiled, still calm, as Youmu leaned down to place the tray she had been carrying in front of her. Her balance faltered just a bit as she tried to squeeze in between Miko and Yuyuko.

_“Youmu,”_ Yuyuko started, patting the spot on her other side. “Why don’t you come sit over here?”

Miko decided to let Youmu's rudeness slide, at least for now. _“I know you,”_ Youmu said, “I read about you, Toyosatomimi.” Not sure what else to respond to her blunt statement Miko simply said, “Oh, yes, most people have by now. And who are you, again?”

Miko knew who Youmu was well enough, but Youmu didn't need to know that. “I am Konpaku Youmu, m'lady Yuyuko's-”

_“Gardener,”_ Yuyuko cut in, leaning to pat Youmu on her shoulder. “Youmu here, she’s the gardener of my dear pride and joy, the famous flower gardens of the netherworld.”

“Oh really?” Miko said disinterestedly, “That’s quite the different, not to mention outspoken, gardener you've got there, miss Saigyouji.”

Yuyuko laughed pleasantly, while Youmu grew increasingly irritated. “I do treasure her straight forwardness, I do,” Yuyuko said, skillfully playing dumb, not that it fooled Miko.

“Oh, what was I saying?” Miko intended to change the subject, “Ah, yes, the Hakurei shrine maiden known quite the interesting people, doesn't she?”

Youmu put down her sake cup with a little bit too much force. Miko hadn't noticed until now, but Youmu was already quite drunk. “What do you mean by that?”

All this time, Aya had been watching interestedly, which hadn't gone unnoticed by Miko. And now, Aya perked up additionally. Hatate seemed ever so slightly uncomfortable, if not annoyed.

“Oh I mean exactly what I said,” Miko said, gesturing to the room, “This isn't quite what you'd expect from a shrine, is it?” Seeing Youmu's confused look, she continued, “Beasts and monsters, pretty much everywhere...” Miko forced a chuckle, “I was expecting, at least, a slightly more refined bunch.”

Miko looked across her four drinking mates, and felt the tension build up, that is, before she smiled brightly and added, “No offense, of course!”

“How dare you,” Youmu started, fumbling just a bit, saying the first thing to come to mind.

“Oh, but I have to say,” Miko responded quickly, “Your Lady here, would be an exception,” Miko turned to Yuyuko, “Please don’t mind my comments, miss, they weren't aimed at someone of your caliber, you caught my eye, see, your beauty and refined demeanor stood out to me,” Yuyuko calmly ignored Miko, who went on to add, “Your servant here is a different story though.”

Youmu snapped to attention, but she was not quick enough to assemble her thoughts. Miko was faster, and in her assessment she was completely relentless: “Really, have you taught her no manners? Or are simply all servants in Gensoukyou this dumb-witted and rude? Why, in my days, it would have been unheard of,”

“Watch your tongue, _you-_ ” Youmu slammed her palm down on the floor, “I don’t care who you are! M’lady Yuyuko doesn't answer to any of your needs! And thus, nor do I!” 

Miko remained calm, but her firmness persisted, and in it, she was effortless. “Why, you are just a commoner, but a servant none the less... you should know your time and place, and much less never speak in your masters place.”

Miko's response ignited a spark in Youmu. Despite her anger, a crystal clear realization dawned on her, and her confidence grew. “I know of you,” She said, “I've seen you.”

Miko was unimpressed. “Seen me? What of it?”

“I've seen you fight,” Youmu said. “You called me a commoner, did you?”

“Yes I did; and correctly so.” Miko hadn't really though about it up until then. She hand’t thought about the swords strapped to Youmu's back and side, not until Youmu slid the Roukanken of her back, and held it’s sheathed tip against the floor with one hand. Beyond that point however, Miko didn't have to think twice about what was up.

“Tell me then,” Youmu huffed herself up, preparing to approach Miko, in a serious attempt to bring her down. “What ruler goes into battle with a sheathed sword? For I have, only ever momentarily, seen you draw it.”

“That is because anything else would be completely unnecessary,” Miko said, snappily, dismissing the comment.

“You dare humiliate your opponent so? That’s even worse than I thought!” Youmu spat, and Miko, for the first time yet, felt agitated. She tried hard to not let it reflect to much in her response. “ _Please._ Someone such as you has no right to lecture me. I already told you; know your place.”

Youmu stood up. “ _Commoners!_ Commoners such as me do battle, for their masters, for their leaders! We put our life on the line for their interests, and for their honor! We fight with all we have, never holding back! What ruler leads them into battle with a sheathed sword?” Youmu had already raised her voice way above conversation level, and she was shaking ever so slightly. “I’ll tell you! A disrespectful coward of a leader does! _You,_ who do not respect your subjects nor your opponents, it is _you_ who has no right to lecture _me!_ ”

Perhaps a bit too late, Youmu realized that everyone in the entire room, as well as the surrounding yard, had grown silent. The pressure pushed her even further. “A sheathed sword is a mere decoration,” She clarified, her voice lowered, but tenser than ever before, clearly audible in the quiet room.

Miko drew back her anger, overtly aware that every single person present was listening, and composed herself. Futo, nor Tojiko, were yet anywhere to be seen. Miko knew Futo would gladly take it upon herself to tackle any slanders directed towards her, but for once, just this once, Miko thought, doing it by herself might just be refreshening.

“It indeed is a rather different gardener you have there, Miss Saigyouji,” Miko said, feinting ignorance of Youmu, and instead picking up on a long-dropped line of conversation.

Yet Yuyuko was as serene as ever as she responded, smiling; “Yes. Like I said... I treasure her straight-forwardness.”

“Although she is sharp-tongued, I’ll give her that,” Addressing Youmu directly is not something Miko wanted to grant Youmu at this time, especially not after she detected pride in Yuyuko's voice, “She is just a stupid child, completely out of line.”

The murmur grew in the room, but at this point, Youmu had shut pretty much everything out. She held the Roukanken up, towards Miko, and looked her straight in the eye. “I’ll give you one last chance to prove yourself!”

The room started returning to life with excitement. Everyone knew what was coming.

“I may be a gardener first-hand, but as one swordswoman to another, I challenge you!”

Miko got up calmly, “I’d hate to buy into the cheap provocation of someone such as you, but,” Miko gestured around her, her lips curving into a smile. “Now that you've slandered me in front of all these people, I suppose I don’t have much choice.”

Miko approached Youmu steadily, her gaze unwavering, and when Miko finally addressing her directly, it was without any humor in her voice.

“I’ll shut you up good, so you’ll never speak out of line again.”

       

       

       

       As per the order of things, the kappa were quick to take note of any situation that brought with it money making opportunities. Yes, they were quick- but none is faster at recognizing and adapting to a social situation than the natural-born social chameleon herself. While the kappa were still banding together to ready their registrars and their bankbooks, Mamizou readily raised a hand into the air, with two bills folded between her fingers. “Two thousand on our feisty little lady in green!” She announced. Her friends soon joined in; all bets on Youmu. The kappa struggled to catch up.

Miko didn’t even glance their way.

With her inner turmoil dying down, Youmu felt her focus sharpen. Her breath was was steady, her hands were still; she had outmost confidence. Ah, the wonders of alcohol.

The clapping of hands, the hollering of the drunk onlookers and the ringing of coins as the kappa shook their collection boxes, urging for further betting acted curtain call to this suddenly announced improvisation act.

Meanwhile in the back of the shrine, Reimu downed the last few drops directly from a near-empty bottle, just before reaching to open another. From the gap between the sake cabinet and the wall, Yukari appeared. Reimu glanced over to her, annoyed, and drunk.

“Reimu,” she said quietly, nodding slightly in the direction of the excitement. “You might just want to watch this one,”

Reimu stopped to look at Yukari before she wordlessly turned around. “Just saying.” Yukari added, smiling.

 

       

       

       

       

       

      “You’ll be using both your swords?” Miko asked, she appeared to be enjoying herself; she liked fighting, after all.

Youmu hadn't thought about it up until then. “No,” She said, calm and confident. Youmu was starting to enjoy herself, too. “Now that you've said that, I’ll only need one.”

From her side, she pulled the Hakurouken, and she cast a quick glance into the gallery. Yuyuko was in the back, she hadn't moved too far from her original seat.

“Are you sure you don’t need to watch this, like, properly?” Hatate had asked her before getting up. Aya had already left.

“Oh, no, no,” Yuyuko had said, sweepingly, unaffected by the atmosphere. “I’m fine...” She smiled. Yuyuko could see decently from here; and Youmu wouldn't assume anything else. That much was enough.

Miko snapped her fingers, and rose her voice over the crowd. “Hey! Someone hold this girl’s sword for her!”

Youmu had just been planning to hand it over to Yuyuko, but, she supposed Miko wouldn't let her do that. Undermining your opponent’s chances to look cool or gain sympathies from the crowd was important, if you wanted to be victorious, after all. One of the kappa was quick on her feet, came, and snatched the Hakurouken away.

Loosing the Roukanken from her back, Youmu held it at her hip. As they drew closer, she felt her pulse echo in her head. She inspected Miko, she appeared confident and her stance was relaxed. _Too relaxed,_ Youmu thought. Her anger still hand’t quite settled, less had she sobered up.

_She’s leaning her weigh on my left,_ Youmu noted. _She’s obviously underestimating me. I don’t know anything about her skills with a sword, but even if her confidence in that area is warranted... She doesn't know my speed!_

Meanwhile, Miko was more focused on getting started. “On what signal shall we go?”

Youmu, not wanting to appear any less unbothered than Miko, said, “Anything’s fine.”

“You, kappa,” Miko said to the kappa holding the Roukanken, without taking her eyes of Youmu. “You signal for us.”

The entire set-up was become more indicative by the second. It was but a simple drunken argument that had spun out of control, and as the stakes grew higher, no one objected, no one interfered; everyone played along. Even for a banquet at the Hakurei Shrine, it was an unusual night, a strange set-up, a bizarre atmosphere.

Miko felt a waning uneasiness. From somewhere, or someone, she heard a voice, weak, but clear nonetheless; and it was growing stronger.

It spoke of ill will.

But it was too late. The kappa raised her gun in the air.

_... If I strike fast and hard, before she can react... I have a chance._ Youmu drew her left foot back, lowering her stance, hand at the Roukanken’s hilt.

“At your marks!”

_She has a decent stance, but... she’s showing off her intentions way too much._ Miko remained relaxed. She too, drew back slightly, more heavily leaning on her right. _She’s planning come at me fast, hoping to gain advantage by throwing me off guard... Anyone could tell._

The gun went off. Youmu was first to react. In a single fluid movement, she stomped off the ground, and the Roukanken’s shining edge bared itself.

_She’s fast,_ Miko thought, somewhat impressed. _... But, that’s all she is._ Comparatively leisurely, she stood in place. And then, her blade made itself known in front of the crowd, risen to par Youmu's approaching blow from her right.

Before she anticipated it, Miko lost her footing. Thrown back, she put one foot behind the other. This was an unexpected force, and Miko hadn't the time to think anything else, before it cracked and broke.

Emerging from a point near the Roukanken's mid, was a crack, tearing the iron’s fabric apart like dried yellow grass, wilted from a rainless summer, creating countless tiny slivers of fragments.

Miko registered a sharp pain in her side, and at the same time she saw Youmu's face twisted with terror.

The crows was faster to react than neither of the two of them. The fight was over mere seconds after it had started. A wild cheer, announcing the big betting winners, and Miko felt strangers surround her, congratulating her.

Youmu had collapsed at the edge of this spectacle, and when she, in her spiraling despair rose her head, Miko saw no resentment. There was only regret on her face.

As for herself, Miko only felt confusion, a monumental confusion.

The blades had never connected. Or had they?

Not to mention; a single, small, golden fragment. No else seemed to notice in all the commotion, but it was missing. Mixed in with the pieces of the Roukanken shattered on the ground, it had been lost.

       

       

       


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 had been finished since a long time back, but last minute I decided I wasn't happy with it. In the end, things took much longer than I wanted, especially considering how short this chapter is. orz
> 
> Anyway. This chapter has guest appearance by Ms. Kaku Seiga. Enjoy!

       

#  Part 2 

       

       

      

      The dojo was a different place on this day; Youmu wasn't quite sure why she had decided to come here. The morning light was raw like the feeling of anxiety that occupied her thoughts, driving her up the walls. She decided she was done crying, and that she was done being useless. Youmu left the dojo, and it was empty, her morning rituals there ignored for the first time since she had entered servitude in the Saigyouji family.

That morning when Youmu had awoken, the Roukanken had been by her side, whole, unbroken; as if nothing had happened. As if it had naturally restored its form, like the curve of a bow after the arrow is fired. Everyone involved could tell that was not quite what had happened, but it appeared as if the Roukanken had silently healed its wounds. Still now it stood there, sheathed, abandoned.

Youmu was fatigued, yet restless, and her mind and heart was racing. She had gone over many options during the night. She had considered leaving, leaving to come back only when she again felt worthy of her position. She had considered resigning her swords; and her duties along with them. She had considered bowing her head down low, pressing her face against the floorboards while begging for forgiveness. They were all tempting options, all too tempting; but that was because they were all selfish.

They were all easy ways out.

Upon this realization, Youmu swallowed her tears. She remembered the words she said to Toyosatomimi no Miko the other night. She was still in servitude of the Saigyouji family. No matter what, that was something she knew she mustn't forget. Her duties, as the caretaker of the gardens, as the caretaker of her Lady Yuyuko.

Even if she should never again hold a sword in her hands, it shouldn't matter. What mattered, is that she take full responsibility for her actions.

      

      

      

      

      

      By the time Yuyuko arose, Youmu had already been awake for a few hours, like on any other day. An unusual affair for her, but she could not shake a feeling of unease. She lingered in her room, before she approached Youmu's quarters. As she expected, Youmu was not there. When she saw the Roukanken there, left behind, she drew a deep sigh has her fears were realized.

Yuyuko worried never for the sword. Regardless of how special, to her it was just a sword. It could be fixed, it could be replaced; unlike much else. Youmu's spirits would not be so easily mended. Although she had suffered humiliation in the past, this was unlike anything before. For the first time ever in regards of Youmu, Yuyuko was at loss for what exactly to do.

Should she act like nothing had happened? Should she be angry? Should she be forgiving? More than anything she felt simply pity for Youmu's situation.

      

      

      

      

      

      In the garden, preparations for fall were in full swing. Although it was early, today she was already out there. While she would normally be satisfied by simply calling her from a distance, today Yuyuko came up to her as she was applying large sheets of shredded bamboo stalks and hay to the flower beds. “Good morning, Youmu.” She started carefully.

“... Good morning, Lady Yuyuko,” She responded, taking a bit longer than necessary to turn away from her wheelbarrow of hay. She had already started wearing long sleeves, most likely to avoid hurting herself on the harsh strands of hay. Youmu also wore gloves, the dark leather kind in a size too big for her, with her hair tied messily at the back of her head. Youmu's eyes were sharp with bitter frustration. She looked tired, and worn out. 

Yuyuko thought that just as she has feared, Youmu probably hadn't gotten much sleep. Very clearly in her mind, Yuyuko could imagine her sobbing inconsolably all night, no matter her current expression. Remembering the evening before, Yuyuko concluded she was most likely hung-over as well.

“How about you take a small break, Youmu? It's about time for some tea,” Again, Yuyuko spoke with her usual delicate voice. Naturally, it was not the time for tea. It was just after breakfast time, but Yuyuko making such convenient statements was common. Normally, Youmu would bounce right back at her, correcting her, as if she never tired of doing it. Today, however, she simply paused, adverted her eyes, took of her oversized gloves and said, “Of course. I'll prepare some tea immediately.”

Yuyuko smiled at her, and tried to do so as brightly as possible. Youmu avoided eye-contact.

      

      

      

      

      

      When Youmu came into the tea room with her tray, her hair had been let down. Its bone-white color now directly against her cheek made Yuyuko realize she looked even paler than usual.

Youmu had of course presumed why Yuyuko had called her in for tea. She had dreaded it, but she had come here either way. As to not give off too much of a pitiful display, she had decided hold her head high. Instead, it felt more like she was just barely holding it above water.

Yuyuko had the Roukanken by her side. Rather than tackling the matter right away, she held on to it. She reached calmly for her tea and drank slowly. Youmu herself wasn't sure if it made matters better or worse, but perhaps Yuyuko was trying to spare her some stress. She tried to appreciate the gesture.

Youmu had already though long about what to say. She struggled to remain presentable, but she managed. She wouldn't drink the tea, but she would straighten her back and not stare into the floor anymore. Yuyuko put down her cup.

“Youmu,” She brought up the sword in front of her, holding it in both hands. “I was thinking, perhaps, tonight you could instruct me, with this sword.” Youmu was put off, but only momentarily. Officially, acting as a sword instructor was part of her job as well. She never would have imagined it to be brought up like this, however. Yuyuko had never before shown any interest.

Yuyuko slid the sword out, carefully, to show Youmu its unchanged appearance, as if she assumed Youmu herself hadn't already checked. She already had first thing that morning. “You're always training so hard, aren't you? Perhaps, a little of it would do me good, too.”

Any other day, Youmu would've been thrilled. Over the moon, even. Yuyuko held the Roukanken for Youmu to take. Youmu shook her head. “Forgive me, Lady Yuyuko, but I cannot.”

 _“Youmu,”_ Yuyuko said once more, softly, sweetly. “Won't you please take the sword?”

First, her palms hit the floor. Then, her forehead.

“Lady Yuyuko, I must decline.” Youmu's voice was surprisingly sharp. “I hope you understand, although it is regrettable... I can no longer be your guardian, much less your instructor.”

To see Youmu humble herself so, flared up Yuyuko's emotions. Yet, as usual, she appeared calm.

 _“Youmu._ Regardless of what happens, you'll always be my guardian.” Yuyuko reasoned, thinking to herself that this was just Youmu's usual recklessness speaking.

Youmu rose her head just a little. “That sword was given to me, as Lady Yuyuko's guardian. It was given to me so I could protect you, your honor, your interests, your ambitions. The fact that the Roukanken is back to it's usual form now doesn't matter. It broke in my hand, it broke when I wielded it.”

Youmu paused, tense. Yuyuko gave her time. Trying to pull herself together, Youmu sat up once more. She wanted to look Yuyuko in the eye, finally, but she failed to, shutting her eyes tightly.

“As I am now... I am not worthy, Lady Yuyuko.” When the words finally came out, it was with surprising clarity in voice and mind. She folded her hands in her lap and Yuyuko watched her carefully, her own uneasiness growing.

With a change in tone, Yuyuko was suddenly serious. “Youmu. What happened is not your responsibility.”

With that, Youmu finally lost her composure. _“H-how could you say that?”_ She had promised herself she wouldn't cry. _“I..._ I carry full responsibility, Lady Yuyuko.” Youmu drew a deep, quivering breath. “Back then, as well as now... I am fully aware of my actions.”

Tearing down what was left of her usual easy-going exterior, a grim expression emerged on Yuyuko's face. She looked down on the Roukanken that she still held. Their conversation had not gone as planned, and it seemed it wouldn't go at all beyond this point.

“I am sorry. I truly am, but I do net yet deserve any forgiveness." Her voice was firm and after the words left her lips, Youmu sighed, almost in relief. "I apologize, M'Lady, but I must leave. Thank you for your time." She bowed, her forehead brushing the floor quickly once more before she excused herself.

Silent seconds ticked by, the tea went cool, and with the Roukanken's weight in her hands, Yuyuko made up her mind.

Now, she had decided. She had decided what she should feel. Yuyuko was angry; but not with Youmu.

There was someone else.

      

      

      

      

      

      A day, or two, had been more than enough. Anyone else wouldn't have though much of it, and moved on with life. For many reasons, Miko was different.

It was a chillier morning, with slight mist. Fall was now, unmistakably, here. Still dressed in her nightwear, Miko threw over her shoulders another blanket. Indoors she couldn't be bothered with footwear however, so the cold floor still sent a shiver down her spine. She was a little weak against the cold, with her slight figure.

Seiga was smoking a heavy scented tobacco. She was a woman who seemed to be constantly surrounded by exotic and otherworldly scents. Yet, it was never enough to cover the uncanny stench of death that seemed to have stuck to her very skin, to never be washed out. She had opened a gap between the sliding doors to let the smoke out to the garden. Miko immediately noticed after entering the room, but she decided she wouldn't let it bother her.

"I see you finally managed to get yourself over here," Miko already had one too many things upsetting her. “... _Niang Niang._ ” 

Seiga just shrugged, "I'm a busy woman," She said nonchalantly, bringing the pipe to her lips. "Maybe next time you could be the one to come see me, for once... _Your highness?"_

Seiga was the only one around who could get away with addressing Miko in such a thoughtless manner, and she knew it. Which was why Miko had decided to meet with her entirely alone. Not just because it was a very private matter, but she'd rather not have her reputation damaged in front of the worshipers. They were better off not knowing that her master was this much of a rude, shady and eccentric character.

"It's a delicate situation. I hope you understand." Miko stated sharply.

"Sure, whatever."

Yoshika wasn't with her today, but Miko couldn't care less. Sitting down in front of Seiga, she presented between them a slender item wrapped in heavy cloth. Seiga already had a decent guess of as to why she had been summoned on this day.

"As much as I hate to admit it, I'm a little bit at loss of where to turn for this... inconvenience of mine. But, I was hoping you could help me." Still as serious, Miko approached the subject as carefully as possible.

"How flattering," Seiga said unconvincingly, as she shed a passing glance on Miko who made do with revealing the all-familiar subject of their attention.

Seiga tried not to chuckle. "Ah, but I think you should know, your highness....”

She paused to blow smoke in Miko's general direction. "I am no sword-smith."

Miko's most precious belonging; her own literal flesh and blood. Miko's beloved blade laid out before them, and like this, the missing splinter was largely noticeable.

 _"I know!”_ In an unusual expression of frustration, Miko drove her fist into the floor. “Just as well should _you know_ this isn't just about a broken sword!"

Miko tore her extra blanket off, "If that was all there was to it," and then her outer layer of clothing, "I never would have called you here!" and then she opened her sleeping gown, a simple white one-pieced clothing in fine cotton. She tore it down to expose her left side.

Her chest, her breast, and most her torso down to her hip was now bare, although Miko was completely composed. With the sudden exposure, Seiga paused. Not due to her highness’ exposed flesh, but due to the missing part; a gash right above her hip, with sharp pointed edges.

It's shape was eerily similar to that of the blade's missing sliver.

"I see. So that’s the actual problem." Smiling, Seiga seemed to perk up, now actually interested.

"As if my blade breaking wasn't a big enough ordeal on it's own," Miko responded with an increasingly irritated tone.

"This must be very humbling for you. To have to come asking me for help with something like this." Seiga announced smugly.

"...Just tell me what I have to do to fix it." Tense, Miko tried to steer her back on track.

"Oh, _I..._ " Seiga closed in on Miko, who was just about to button up. "Will need a closer look."

Miko didn't appear convinced but she went along with it. With her hand on Miko's hip, Seiga inspected the wound. There was no sign of scar tissue or blood. It was as if a part of her body had simply disappeared into nothingness.

"Does it hurt?" Seiga asked, genuinely curious.

"No... Only the inside, if you touch it." Miko hesitated to let her know.

"Have you noticed anything else that might be unusual?" Seiga asked, promptly touching the inside.

Miko winced at the pain. "I haven't quite been myself since it happened. I'm fatigued, irritated... and lacking in appetite. It only seems to worsen..."

Seiga hummed, grabbing Miko's side firmly, and twisting it. Miko bit her lip, not wanting to wince again. She wasn't used to being in pain. "Do you have any idea what could be done?"

Seiga returned to her seat, "To be blunt with you, your highness...” Pipe back in her hand, Seiga shrugged. "I have no idea. My guess is as good as yours. I have never seen anything quite like this before."

Miko pulled up her sleeve, her facial expression wry. "You can't be serious, Niang Niang."

Seiga laughed nervously, "My condolences, your highness. But I have never before encountered anyone who kept their body so close to their vessel, or so to say..."

"Are you telling me that's the cause?" The possibility annoyed Miko further.

"I don't know. It could be." Seiga speculated carelessly.

"Well, what do I do? _At this rate I will-_ " Miko rose her voice, finally, angry.

Seiga fearlessly cut her off. "Don't you just have to fix it? As I said, I'm not a sword-smith-”

 _"This isn't about a metal blade, Niang Niang!"_ Miko exclaimed, fed up.

Seiga, however, didn't let herself be affected. " _Oh..._ but are you sure?" In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself all the more.

"Because what I see before me," Seiga continued, looking Miko up and down. " _...Is a splendid metal blade._ "

As the meaning of Seiga's words sunk in, Miko settled down.

"I suppose you've heard," Seiga went on calmly, "Of the god of the mountain."

"What are you talking about?" Miko inquired, not sure of she should be the least hopeful of any guidance Seiga had to offer at this point.

"She is apparently an expert at handling all sorts of metals. You could perhaps say she's well, the very origin of the art itself, even, at least in this land." Seiga leaned back, making her self comfortable.

Miko went quiet, her eyes fell down on the sword in front of her. She didn't like where this was headed, she didn't like it one bit.

It had, in fact, already crossed her mind; not the mountain god, but rather the circumstances of this situation in itself. It had struck her the very moments before the Roukanken had connected with her side; indirectly. She had seen it, in the corner of her eye, the calm ghastly smile of Yakumo Yukari. It had bothered her immensely ever since.

And now, it angered her. Her suspicion was only becoming more justified, even if the consequences hadn't been foreseeable.

“Perhaps, you should go see her.” Seiga said as she got up, slowly preparing to leave Miko to seethe in her fury alone.

      

      

      

      


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is longer. Guest appearances by Ms. Ibaraki Kasen and Ms. Hieda no Akyuu. Enjoy.  
> 

       

#  Part 3 

       

       

      

      How long had passed since she arrived in Gensoukyou? Two, perhaps, two and a half years? Her days spent leisurely, time passed quickly. Yet, as naturally as winter turned to spring once more, and then spring to summer and summer to fall, she started thinking of this place as her home.

Little over two years is nothing in the face of the history of Gensoukyou, much less so to the history of those who dwelt here.

Time to time over the last few days, Miko had retraced to the moment she got cut down, and more specifically, to how Yakumo Yukari had smiled that evening, as their eyes met.

The Roukanken, the sword that Miko had clashed with, had an unusual power. Miko was not specifically aware of this, she had realized it was an unusual sword, but not much else. Konpaku Youmu, the half-dead half-alive girl who lacked the fear of death and the envy of the dead, one of the swords she wielded, was the Roukanken.

The Roukanken had the power to cut down spirits, and send them to hell.

As a shikaisen, Miko was an inanimate object possessed by such a human spirit, and such, she had stopped aging and gained immortality. Such a vessel would mean nothing; had the Roukanken struck her; it would have sliced through her soul like butter. Miko's own sword was a dead body; lifeless flesh and blood, and meant even less to such a blade.

Swordswomanship aside, Konpaku Youmu was the natural enemy of someone such as Toyosatomimi no Miko. Even more so than the shinigami that would come for her life.

Yakumo Yukari had known this. She had laid matters out so Youmu and Miko would meet, so that they would clash swords, in front of everyone.

She had then choose to spare Miko's life.

And not until days later, would Miko slowly come to this conclusion. The conclusion that Yakumo Yukari had planned so carefully to humiliate and humble her. All to let her see to the extent that Miko did not know her place in Gensoukyou, to the extent that she did not know the beings in Gensoukyou. To the extent that there lived countless beings with powers equal or above Miko's own in Gensoukyou.

       

       

      

      A somewhat familiar face, a girl standing visible in the gap between the doors was enough for her to know she was needed somewhere. Today however, a message arrived in lieu of her regular breakfast plate. A folded piece of paper in an envelope, it read; _Come see me posthaste, ground floor study. Don't let anyone know._ Followed by a hasty signature, almost ridiculously needless.

Not dressed beyond her sleep wear, Futo, unable to divert too much form her usual routine, got formidably dressed; proper, down until the last detail. Naturally it took a few minutes longer than what might have been suitable.

 _"There you are,"_ Miko said sharply, when Futo quietly slid the doors open just a bit, but she hadn't even got time to excuse herself; Miko came towards her, forcing Futo back into the corridor. "Excuse me my tardiness your Highness. What may the occasion be?" Miko continued to walk steadily, with Futo following right behind her. "I'm going out," Miko responded, with a shortness undeniably unusual for her. 

"At this time of day, your highness?" A question asked simply formally, Futo knew well enough that her highness' intentions were none of her business.

"Yes," again, a short, snappy response. As such, Futo knew that this meant she should be quiet. Her highness was not one to easily have her spirits dwindled, much less agitated. It has been a long time Futo had seen her so; it was something she considered a matter of the past, something quite unthinkable in their new, leisure existence.

The back door out; a door usually only utilized by the most meager of trainees during the servitude hours. Futo herself rarely had reason to use it. Miko fumbled a bit with a piece of clothing, a simple haori worn over one of her less ornamented dresses. She wasn't used to putting something like it by herself. Luckily she did not fumble enough for Futo to consider offering help for more than a split second; it had never been included in her usual duties anyway. 

That Miko wanted to go and come unnoticed was obvious. For what reason however, Futo was oblivious. With Miko not opening up for any questions, Futo had none to ask.

"I'll be gone for all of today, most likely. You take my place for the afternoon sermon, the scripts are in my room, they should be in my cabinet somewhere-" Out of the sleeve she pulled a long scarf, and tied it around her head; the visage was most unusual, even for Futo. The only remnants of her usual self that remained was the bangs of her busy head of hair, and the tip of the sheath of her sword that poked out under her garb.

She turned to leave, “Oh, and cancel my post-sermon,” Miko hesitated for a split second, thinking. “... _Private tutoring._ Her name is uh, Mi, Ma- something, I think.”

Futo hadn't been aware her highness offered private tutoring. “Naturally, your highness.”

“If anyone asks, I’m in my bedroom, not taking any visitors. Not _anyone_ , alright?”

Futo repeated “Naturally, you highness,”

       

       

      

      Meanwhile, elsewhere, another left her residence in a similar fashion.

She made her way to the shrine in the valley, and she made sure to take her time. She had some thinking to do.

The mornings were still rather late to arrive. When she climbed the to the top of the stairs, and the shrine rose up in front of her, it was still engulfed in the early morning light. Yet, there was a string of freshness in the air. 

“Where _were_ you?!” But it seemed, Yuyuko was not the earliest visitor this day.

“ _I..._ I had a change of plans,”

_“And you had no thought what-so ever to let me know?”_

“It was quite sudden, I... I couldn't go.”

Yuyuko had never before met Ibaraki Kasen. Perhaps briefly she had spotted her at an event, or heard of the hermit who frequented the shrine, but they had never spoken. Reimu hadn't spotted her yet, Yuyuko thought. Or if she had, she didn't care.

Reimu went on addressing Kasen. “I don’t know what I had done if Suika hadn't showed, you know? If not for her, I never would've had enough drinks for everyone, not with you bailing on me!”

Kasen was silent, but begrudging, looking as if she really wanted to say something. In the event where oni cannot lie, she had no proper excuses. She only had silence. A silence Yuyuko gladly took as her cue, never minding the tense atmosphere.

“Good morning,” Yuyuko announced, happily, politely. “It sure was a lively party last time!”

“Oh, hi. Good morning,” Reimu responded. She really hadn't noticed Yuyuko approaching them. “And yeah, it sure was. I don't remember inviting so many people, though.”

Yuyuko laughed pleasantly. “Oh but you see... those guests weren't invited. They were gathered.”

Kasen flinched.

Reimu appeared ever so slightly puzzled. “...What?”

“But never mind that.” Yuyuko leisurely changed the subject. “I was just about to stop by, and check on something, really.”

“It’s unusual for you to come here, and alone too,” Reimu said, her inquiry seeming entirely genuine. Without waiting for Yuyuko to respond, Reimu turned to get back to the shrine. “I’ll put on some tea,”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary!” Yuyuko responded brightly. “I won’t be long!”

Reimu stopped. “Oh, alright.” Kasen glanced between the two of them, looking uncomfortable.

“After all,” Yuyuko went on to explain, “It doesn't look like Yukari is here. Is she?”

Reimu seemed confused. “What? No, she’s not.”

Yuyuko's smile came of as increasingly forced. “You wouldn't have any idea where she could be, do you?”

Reimu scoffed. “If you don’t know, how am I supposed to?”

To Reimu's surprise, Yuyuko laughed. “What's so funny?” Reimu grumbled.

“Oh, it's nothing. Nothing.” Yuyuko said, closing in on Reimu just a little. “Just, any little clue would help. Do you have any slightest idea what-so ever, where she might be?”

Bothered and bordering on annoyed, Reimu gave it a thought. “Hmm... _Well,_ ” She thought back to the last few times she and Yukari had spoken, it had only been two days ago. “Yukari did mention she was planning to visit the Hiedas, to discuss some matter or other but...”

“The Hideas?” Yuyuko asked. Knowing well she meant the Miare maiden’s residence, but rather looking to confirm this was the information she was looking for.

“Yeah. I don't know about what though. She kept babbling vaguely about this and that and how she owes Akyuu a favor.”

“Really, huh?” Yuyuko said, thinking.

Reimu crossed her arms. She was still in a pretty bad mood. “Yeah, really. I can't promise you she'll be there now though.”

“Oh, I know that much.” Yuyuko responded, smiling. “It's Yukari after all!”

Reimu said nothing, but her expression was knowing. There had been times she had wanted to get a hold of Yukari too, but having had no way to do so.

“Thank you, Reimu. I guess I am the one who owes favors now.” Reimu seemed to lighten up just a bit.

“Don’t bother, there's no need. Oh and,” Reimu pointed at Kasen, “You're not doing anything special, are you, Ibara?”

“I- _uh,_ I guess not?” Kasen responded.

“You probably shouldn't walk around the village alone, take this one with you. She's always around there, after all.” Reimu looked at Kasen. “It's fine, right? Since you’re not busy.”

“I-It's fine! Like you say, it's better if I come along to make sure there's no trouble.” Kasen seemed relieved, somehow.

“Oh, how sweet of you.” Yuyuko welcomed the company, although she had been looking forward to going alone, she hadn't thought she’d be heading to the village. As a result, Reimu had a point.

       

       

      

      They had barely gone out of ear-shot from the shrine when Kasen decided to strike up a conversation. “I don't think we've spoken, but, unless I'm mistaken, you're miss Saigyouji Yuyuko of Hakugyokurou, right?”

“Yes, yes I am!” Yuyuko responded brightly. “And you must be the hermit I've heard of... Miss Ibara? May I call you that?”

Kasen smiled, although somewhat nervously. “It's fine! I don't mind...” When they made it to the stairs, Kasen asked “Are you okay with flying...? It's a bit far to walk, especially since we should make sure not to land too close to where anyone lives, just in case.”

“I don't mind,” Yuyuko said calmly. She gestured in front of her. “Please, lead the way.” Kasen nodded, “Alright, then,” and with that, they were off.

Although the Shrine was situated a top a hill, if was still protected by tress and foliage. In the air it was slightly chillier. Yuyuko however, was already naturally cold, so it didn't bother her. 

“So, how do you know her, this Yakumo Yukari?” Kasen had only met her once before, but she had made quite the impression. An impression that Kasen feared she would never forget.

“Oh... Yukari and I are old friends, I suppose.” Yuyuko responded without taking her eyes of the horizon. Old friends? Kasen's image of Yuyuko changed quite dramatically with that information. Yuyuko was mild-mannered to the point where she appeared completely harmless; but Kasen realized that had been a severe misconception.

“O-oh, really?” Yuyuko, of course, tapped into Kasen's line of thought. She smiled politely. “You too, must know her at least a little, don't you?”

Kasen was a bit taken back. “I'm sorry but... Why would you think that?”

“Oh but don't you hang around the shrine a lot?” Yuyuko stated, as if the matter was obvious. Yukari and the shrine do go together.

“Well, we've spoken, but I hardly know her.” As a result, Kasen wasn't sure how to respond. “I've heard a lot about her though,” Kasen continued.

Then, Kasen thought about Suika for a moment. She had heard that she was apparently friendly with Yakumo Yukari too, since quite some time back. _Perhaps, that was why Yukari approached me that day?_ She wondered silently.

When they got closer to the village, Kasen again struck up a conversation. “Have you ever visited the Hiedas before?”

“Oh, I might have, but it was a long time ago.” Yuyuko had a good memory, but even if the village hadn't changed so much she couldn't find her way there, she wanted Kasen to accompany her as far as possible. That is, if it was true that Kasen was indeed welcomed warmly in the village. It was best to avoid a scene.

“I see, I'll come with you then.” Kasen responded, smiling.

       

       

      

      At the village, the humans had already started their day. It would be a bit longer for most of the shops to open, but the workers had all already left their homes, so food and drinks were already being sold. The worst morning bustle had thankfully died down, so they could move around with ease. Yuyuko attracted more than a few passing glances, but with the well-known hermit escorting her, it never escalated into anything more than that.

“You must come here very often. Do you?” Yuyuko asked, seemingly impressed, but Kasen couldn't tell if it was the genuine article.

“Yes... Is that really so surprising?” Again, Kasen wan't sure what to say. She didn't want to sound rude, but she felt there was a possibility Yuyuko was one being rude.

“Well, yes." Yuyuko pointed to Kasen, “Aren't you hermits supposed to be incredibly elusive, dwelling only in remote places?”

Kasen laughed. “That's... very true. Even if I do live in a remote place, I end up coming here.”

It wasn't long before they reached the Hieda estate. As they waited by the door, the woman who greeted them hesitated somewhat to approach, despite Kasen's presence. Yuyuko raised her voice just a bit. “Thank you so much miss Ibara for going through all the trouble of guiding me here,” Yuyuko bowed. By addressing Kasen like this, she would establish a connection between them, as well as giving a good first impression.

“I-It was really no problem. Please, don't mention it, miss Yuyuko.” They waved and said a quick farewell before Kasen turned to leave.

The woman's suspicion seemed to have dwindled noticeably. “Good morning ma'am, how can I help you?” 

“My name is Saigyouji Yuyuko.” She cut to the chase. “I'm a friend of Yakumo Yukari.”

That name alone seemed to snap things into place. “... I see. Lady Saigyouji,”

“Please. Call me Yuyuko.” The woman appeared to be on edge despite Yuyuko trying to be casual. Not Yuyuko particularly cared, not right now. “I heard my dear friend Yukari would be here today, so I stopped by to see her. May I?”

“I-I see,” The woman seemed at loss for a second. “I'm not aware if she was yet to arrive but, if it's alright, I may introduce you to Lady Akyuu.”

Yuyuko helped herself towards the entrance. “Yes, that would do.” It wasn't as if Yukari would be using the front door like a regular person anyway.

When they reached the tearoom on the ground floor, it was empty. The sliding doors that led to the garden had been closed permanently, but perhaps not since long. In summer they would always be open to show the scenery.

“Please wait here, ma'am.” Yuyuko was told, and with that she was left, alone, and the tearoom no longer empty.

She heard people walking past outside in the corridor, quickly, once, twice, without stopping. So when the door slid open and she was wordlessly treated to tea, for not one but three people, she was a bit surprised. Not long after the door closed, she heard an approaching murmur, familiar voices and through the paper walls a familiar silhouette.

Yukari didn't seem surprised at all. “Oh, look who's here!” She announced, happily.

Akyuu seemed less pleased, but greeted Yuyuko nonetheless. “What a pleasant surprise,” Her voice was flat. She seemed unsure of how much politeness that was obliged, so she paused, before unwillingly adding, “Lady Yuyuko.”

However, Yuyuko was not one who took such matters to mind, regardless of underlying reasons. “Please, there's no need to be so polite.” Akyuu didn't bother with Yukari in this manner, after all.

“There was something you wanted to talk about?” Yukari offered to Yuyuko, casually, while settling down. Now that she had secured Yukari's position, Yuyuko was much less stressed. In fact, she didn't want this matter between herself and Yukari to bother Akyuu, if she could avoid it. The acknowledging tone of Yukari's voice however, didn't phase Yuyuko. 

“Oh don't mind me. My matters can wait,” Yuyuko said calmly, and looked to Akyuu rather than Yukari.

Akyuu _humph_ -ed, or scoffed, perhaps. “Yukari has already made arrangements with me. I trust her to keep her word, in due time.”

Yukari laughed, a light worriless laugh. “Yes, of course. I promised, after all.”

“Oh? Have you made certain arrangements?” Yuyuko asked, pretending to be interested.

“Ah yes, you see, I owe Akyuu here a favor. She helped me out recently.” Yukari's story matched Reimu's, Yuyuko noted.

Yukari helped herself to some tea; the cup's warmth was inviting. Yuyuko also noted her longer sleeves; she was wearing what seemed to be a several layered dress, for warmth, with white layers topped by a single deep blue piece. It was an eccentric but scruffy outfit; Yuyuko might describe it as a glorified rag. With her contrasting poise however, Yukari managed to make it look dignified.

More significantly though, it was modern and western in style. This implied Yukari was here on personal business. Yuyuko though back to the day of the banquet. What had Yukari been wearing then?

“As a result, I agreed to overlook some documents.” Yukari explained, placing down her tea. 

“Documents?” Yuyuko inquired, and Akyuu was quick to clarify.

“Just some historical documents I wanted commentary on.”

In Gensoukyou, history was in a state of non-life, much like Yuyuko herself. All thanks to individuals like Yukari who felt the need to “correct” the facts of the distant past, a past that was to her still a memory.

“Anyhow,” Yukari said casually. “How's Youmu?”

Yuyuko wasn't surprised, but she wasn't pleased with Yukari's tone regardless.

“Oh,” She said sharply, trying to remain calm. “She is completely beside herself.”

Yukari couldn't completely muffle her laugh. “As always then?”

Yuyuko ignored her retort, and with disdain awaited a serious response. Yukari took her time. “Yes, that's what you came to talk about, right?” She said dryly, still not too serious. “Youmu, that is.”

Yukari seemed to be in a pretty good mood today, but Yuyuko felt as if she was being antagonized as a result. Up until now, Yuyuko had been thinking carefully of what to say up, but now she threw that all out the window. Instead, Yuyuko simply though about the Youmu she had spoken to, just the day before.

“How could you do this to her, Yukari?” It was rare for Yuyuko to express such genuine concern. She shot her eyes down on floor, and then up again. Yukari met her gaze then, and for the first time since entering this room, she showed signs of existing in conjunction with her surroundings, resonating with Yuyuko. For Yuyuko however, it was not by any means enough.

Meanwhile, Akyuu minded her own business, and drank her tea.

Yukari bypassed her confrontation, and instead went down another route completely. “Don't you think you're coddling her a bit too much?”

Yuyuko retorted immediately. “I am not coddling her. Listen, you cannot back out of your responsibility here.”

In all the years of their friendship, Yukari had rarely ever seen Yuyuko express anger. But, now, there it was; even if Yuyuko completely held her composure, even if her voice was still calm and her demeanor by no means flustered, she was angry.

Faced with Yuyuko's anger however, Yukari was at best, a tad disappointed. The two of them still had matters to sort out, but for now, she would let Yuyuko speak.

 _“Look,”_ Yuyuko said, seriously. “I know I agreed to let you talk to her. But I never agreed to any of this. You can't do whatever you want with her, Yukari. I trusted you not to.”

“I trusted you,” Yuyuko repeated. “I thought that much was obvious... How dare you use her like this, all for your own petty games. You have shikigami of your own, don't you?” Yuyuko couldn't remember Ran being at the banquet. “And yet, you think my Youmu should be the one to one take on burdens in your name?”

Thinking she had heard enough, Yukari decided to intervene. “Like I said,” She started, saltily, knowing well Yuyuko would not take kindly to what she was about to say. “Don't you think you're coddling her a bit too much?”

 _“Yukari!”_ Yuyuko was getting just a bit agitated.

“Or perhaps I should put it like this;” Yukari swirled the green tea in it's cup, playing absent-minded once more. “Don't you think you're underestimating her?”

Yukari's words were rarely meaningless, no matter how they were said. Yuyuko saw reason to consider them.

The Roukanken, breaking the moment it as much as grazed the opposing party. Toyosatomimi no Miko, who despite being crowned a winner and despite her usual grace, seemed more distraught that anyone else. And Youmu, with her apoplectic rather than grieving state.

She didn't need any more clues than that to realize that something was off, and Yukari knew as much. However, she hadn't come here looking for theories or possibilities. Yuyuko had come here for answers.

“... What do you mean?” She asked, her anger not quite yet ready to yield, but with her curiosity rising.

“She was gonna kill that girl, see?” Yukari said, frowning, but with her leeway attitude all the same. “I just wanted to play a little prank on her, or like intimidate her a bit...” Yukari shook her head. “Not kill her, or anything like that.”

Yuyuko seemed skeptical. “What were you going to do, again?”

“Youmu, see, she's still just a child, but...” Yukari paused for a bit, but Yuyuko had no objections. “She holds a lot power, you know? With those swords, and all. Anyway, I thought, someone like her would be great to intimidate her just a bit, that Toyosatomimi. Make her look a bit bad.”

Yuyuko didn't want to ask why. For that, guessing was more than enough. Yukari was, after all, surprisingly simple.

“She wasn't supposed to slash at her like that though.” Yukari said. She grimaced, and looked up at Yuyuko, who was still not sympathizing.

“I put up a barrier... but she tried to cut it.” Yukari shrugged. “And it broke.”

No one needed to clarify what "it" referred too. Yuyuko adverted her gaze as Yukari gestured towards her, palm open. “What else was I supposed to do?”

Yuyuko sighed and put a hand up to her face. With this information, she felt tired, but with frustration bundling up just below the surface. “So,” Yukari continued and Yuyuko knew what she was about to say. “Really you should be angry with her, and not me.”

“Yes. _Yes,_ Yukari, thank you, that's quite enough.” Yuyuko said, pushing on annoyed. What was she going to say to Youmu now? She felt like a fool.

Yuyuko remembered Youmu's words still very clearly. She had been very clear; she had recognized her shortcoming, she had admitted to her faults and she had been well prepared to take on any punishment without any excuses.

Youmu had always been very serious and hard working, but she had been less good at being humble, and at taking responsibility for her errors. Now, when she had done that very thing, Yuyuko hadn't listened to her. Yuyuko had dismissed her words and assumed someone else was to blame.

Right now, that was the biggest cause of Yuyuko's frustration.

On top of the guilt of losing the Roukanken, Youmu now also had to deal with Yuyuko not taking her resolve to take responsibility seriously.

“She was too confident of herself,” Yukari said, feeling in on Yuyuko's swindling mood. “Did she really think she could cut a barrier I made?” Yukari laughed just a bit. “That's cute.”

“She... most likely wasn't thinking at all... at least not then.” Yuyuko stared down at the floor. She remembered Youmu trying to hold back her tears. Right now, Yuyuko didn't feel too different. She felt just as wound up.

“Sometimes,” Yuyuko was a bit surprised to hear Akyuu speak up. “Simply telling the truth of what's on your mind is the best way to solve something.”

That was exactly what Youmu had done, Yuyuko thought.

“I guess I was right then,” Yukari said smiling, turning to Yuyuko.

Yuyuko nodded. “Yes. Yes, you were.” It was a bit frustrating to admit, but what else are close friends for, if not to help us realize our mistakes.

Akyuu didn't fully follow, but she didn't really care. “Do you want any more tea?” She asked, seeing as Yukari had finished hers. Yuyuko hadn't touched her own, so it was merely a formal question. “I can ask them to bring some snacks as well, if you want.”

“Oh, that would be lovely.” Yukari said sweetly.

“That's very nice of you, but I'll have to decline.” Yuyuko said politely. As nice as it would be to simmer down a bit, Yuyuko didn't want to overstay her welcome, and to boot, she had some thinking to do.

“Oh really?” Yukari feinted surprise. “That's too bad.”

“Thank you miss Akyuu.” Yuyuko rose from her seat. Bowing her head, she said “Now I owe you a favor as well.”

“It's fine, don't mention it.” Akyuu said dismissing her. “It's not like I want to stop by the netherworld again just yet.” Her tone was rather harsh, but she meant nothing by it.

Yuyuko allowed herself to laugh a bit. Even if the process wasn't something Yuyuko herself had any hand in, many former maidens of Miare had already passed through the netherworld since Yuyuko was granted her position there.

“I'll tell the Enma hi if I see her.” Yuyuko said, jokingly. Yukari _ugh_ ed at her mention alone, but perhaps not as jokingly.

Akyuu laughed just a bit. It takes humor to deal with shortevity, after all.

“I'll see you around.” Yukari said, smiling truly for the first time. “Take care.” She added, and again, she meant it.

Yuyuko responded somewhat coldly. “I'm still not completely through with you,” She said, but Yukari didn't seem surprised.

“I thought as much,” Yukari said, sighing.

“I'll help myself out,” Yuyuko announced.

“Alright, please do.” Akyuu responded. “Be careful passing though the village.”

“Naturally,” Yuyuko said, nodding. “Goodbye, then,” It should be fine she thought, as long a she didn't linger. 

“Goodbye,” Akyuu and Yukari echoed.

Yuyuko bowed one last time, and shut the sliding doors behind her.

“It seemed like she was still mad at you,” Akyuu said, disinterestedly.

“Oh, it'll subside.” Yukari seemed confident. “She's not the one to hold grudges...” Yukari snickered to herself. “She's just not that type of ghost.”

Akyuu wasn't amused, or rather she seemed to not be listening too closely. She had been doing it before, and now she was doing it again; Yukari was fibbling with a small object, and Akyuu couldn't help but eye it.

Finely polished, it was silver in color but when light reflected on the surface it seemed almost golden. Flat and not bigger than a coin in size; with her thumb Yukari flipped it in the air just like one.

“... Shouldn't you give that back?” Akyuu asked.

“Hmm....” Yukari had caught it skillfully in her hand, and again she was inspecting its sharp edges.

Yukari smiled. “No. Not yet.”

       

       

      

      Later that day, the girls' name had turned out to be Momoko. Futo had been wondering how to address the subject to the trainees, but she hadn't needed. Momoko had approached her the moment the sermons ended, wondering about her highness' whereabouts. She had appeared unsuitably concerned when told Miko wasn't seeing anyone, questing it not only twice but thrice. This meeting left Futo uncomfortable. Returning to her quarters, she was to learn her day was not quite over yet.

Another message, this time just a piece of paper, was waiting on her dresser. A second one from Miko might have been expected, but Futo knew better. Trainees were not allowed to enter the rooms of anyone of higher rank under normal circumstances, and Miko delivering the note herself was unthinkable.

Warily, Futo folded it open. It read simply, _Come see me,_ unsigned, and Futo felt her stomach turn. She folded it back and put it in her sleeve, straightened her clothes and opened her drawer to retrieve a comb, all while thinking if the kitchen had yet closed or not.

       

       

      


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took much longer than initially planned, also resulting in a much longer chapter. I considered splitting this up in two parts, but seeing as that would probably just give me more work, I decided against it. Thus, the next and final chapter won't be as long as this.
> 
> Not sure if I should have tagged Kanako and Sanae, but they both ended up being pretty influential to this chapter. As a result, there aren't really any guest characters, at least no named ones.
> 
> Anyhow, after a lot of editing and rewriting, I've decided I'm finally done.  
> 

       

#  Part 4 

       

       

      

      A bottle of sake had been easy enough to retrieve unnoticed. Futo had been in luck, as it turned out the trainees running the kitchen (all a part of their religious training and nothing else, of course) had closed up early. Taking right at the top floor; a place anyone except for a few ever visited, she was relieved not to have run into anyone. She had carefully checked her highness' study and bedroom just before, all while putting back the materials she had borrowed, just in case she had made it back undetected.

Futo walked down the corridor and found herself dragging on each step. It was a little dark, and further down the hall she saw a sliver of light pouring out of the gap from a door left open. Bracing herself, she took a deep breath and looked inside. The room was empty.

Going inside and closing the door shut behind her, she approached the veranda. The sun had started setting, and the warm light was not from lamps, but from the sun itself. Resting her side onto the railing, Tojiko sat leaned over a book.

Unlike summer evenings, the sunset of an early fall brought with it a steady fall in temperatures. The depression kicked up wind, wind that made the doors rattle just a bit in their place, wind that whipped up the corners of the book's pages but left Tojiko's short hair untouched.

Futo stepped into the doorway, and Tojiko spoke to her without looking up. “You came,”

Naturally, she didn't sound the slightest surprised.

“That, I did.” Futo responded, her stance rigid, her tone sober.

Tojiko took her time before glancing up. “So... I take it, she's not back?” She sounded indifferent, to the point of negligence.

Futo held up the bottle she had brought, “This be nothing special, but I brought something to drink,”

“Good... I'll bring some cups.” Tojiko might have smiled then, Futo wasn't sure as the sunset back-lit her face casting a heavy shadow. But regardless, she felt a bit more at ease.

Futo hadn't responded to Tojiko's question, but she hadn't needed. Futo's presence was enough of an answer. Tojiko closed her book promptly with a smack, but when she swept past Futo inside she was soundless. In silence, Futo seated herself, as Tojiko poured them each a drink, and brought candles to make up for the sun's descent. All she did, at a very leisurely pace. Futo squirmed just a bit in her seat.

“What is it that you wanted to discuss?” Futo asked carefully, pretending to study the sky outside the sliding doors. There was nothing to see.

Tojiko, too, looked out to the veranda where she had previously been sitting. “I've been reading,” She still had the book by her side.

“Yes... I saw.” Futo responded. There was something really tranquil about Tojiko today. Futo didn't dislike that, in fact she wished she could enjoy it. Instead, she found it hard to relax, because she knew the source of that tranquility.

As Tojiko's gaze had shifted, Futo eyed what she had been reading once more. Tojiko's book was a simple paper-cover, string-bound book. It was nothing fancy, nor old, nor one of those strange books from the outside Futo had caught glances of in the village.

Tojiko held it up. The title read, in simple, easy to read print; **Touhou Gumon Kuju.**

With that, Futo's fears were realized.

“I've been reading this book,” Tojiko started, expression unchanging. “Have you read it?” She asked, still leisurely.

A moment of silence. Futo shook her head, and when Tojiko remained silent, she added, “No... I have not.”

“Well,” Tojiko continued, unsurprised, “Are you planning to?”

Again, after a moment of silence, Futo shook her head. “No, I am not.”

Tojiko hadn't touched her drink and it seemed she had no plans of doing so. Futo though that now, perhaps, she needed a drink more than she had in a long time. Her lips and throat had dried up, but if she were to raise her hand she feared it would shake.

“We're in this book, you know,” Tojiko said this, as if it were nothing but an unimportant tidbit. “Although, I'd rather not comment on it,” She added.

“She's in it too.” Again, she said it in the same way.

“I am aware,” Futo said, tensing up. “I know that much, even without reading it.”

Tojiko smiled, this time for sure. It was a frustrated, tired smile. “What you mean to say is _“I know that much, therefore I won't read it,”_ right?”

“If her highness has something she wishes share with me, then, she would.” Futo said, voicing her reasoning. “That is why, I do not have to read it.”

Tojiko's tranquility weaned. _"Futo,"_ Her voice bore warning, and Futo couldn't take her eyes off the floor.

"I can't make you read it," Tojiko's eyes had narrowed then, her approach having changed quickly. "But I have things I need to discuss with you."

Futo's usual regal posture quickly deflated. She raised her hand, that was indeed shaking ever so slightly, to her face. She had no rebuttal to make.

"You should know what I'm talking about, right? Since I called you here _today,_ " Serious, but almost carefully so, was her voice. "And today, specifically."

Futo nodded, and she already looked worn. Tojiko drew a sigh, wishing things didn't have to be so hard. Seeing Futo's face, she tried to withdraw whatever aggression she had displayed. She put the book down. "It hasn't been long." She said. "Has it?"

"Yet," Tojiko wasn't waiting for any response. "Here we are."

"I know you hate it, too." She continued. "It's fine though. Tonight, you can tell me." She tried hard to not sound so sentimental.

"I... _Well,_ " Futo's voice was shaking now too. She dared meet Tojiko's gaze, and managed to gather some comfort from finding a trace of concern there, which was quite the rarity.

"... I have tried to not let it affect me," Futo managed, after a bit. Tojiko listened intently, and upon noticing, Futo became stressed once more. "For her highness. But it would be a lie to say that I had succeeded,"

"Naturally," Futo drew a deep breath, her hands clutched on her lap. "I have been worried about you as well."

In all honesty, Tojiko was relived to hear this, even if she had hardly doubted Futo. Tojiko thought hard of what to say next, "...How much do you know?"

Futo discomfort grew, and she was put on edge once more. _"I,"_ Her eyes darted across the floor. "As I stated, I have tried to not consider it too closely, I tried to put it from my mind, lest... Lest-"

 _"Futo-"_ Tojiko broke her off, firmly but reassuringly. "It's fine. She's not here."

A brief pause. "...She's not listening."

Futo twitched in her place, her expression colored with desperation. 

Tojiko herself, thought it was a bit painful to watch, but she tried to not stray from her intentions. "I know this is hard for you, but I really need to talk about this."

Futo nodded, submitting to the situation. Tojiko was right, and she knew.

"It has weighted me down, ever since I realized," Futo admitted. Her expression serious in a way Tojiko hadn't seen it in so long, she felt almost nostalgic.

"It has?" Some surprise sharpened her question, sharpened it perhaps a bit too much.

"Of course it has," Futo, too, was surprised in return- "Naturally it has." -If not a bit offended.

With her fists balled tight, and some of her posture regained, Futo's expression was grave yet sympathetic; "Your situation as well, is undeniably my responsibility, after all."

The flames of the candles flickered in the wind from the still open doors. It had grown darker and darker only in these short moments, Tojiko, too now, clutched her hands in her lap, one in the other, clasped together. A secret meeting, late at night, dire words and Futo's serious expression, Tojiko now felt undeniably nostalgic, and melancholic all the same.

This evening was eerily similar to one 1400 years ago. That time, too, they had met to discuss their future.

The two of them, they had made it so far, and yet, here they were once more.

Futo hung her head as if in defeat. "I should have been able to foresee these circumstances." She drew a shaky sigh. "I should have. I really should have, alas-" She gave a slight sniffle, and Tojiko looked away.

"It's... It's fine, Futo." Tojiko tried to reassure her. "It's not your fault."

"It is quite the impossible situation we have found ourselves in, won't you say?" Finding some humor in the absurdities, Futo raised her face, and even without a glance Tojiko could tell she had wept. Just one, perhaps two tears, but it was more than enough.

It was enough to make Tojiko leave her seat, soundlessly once more. She settled near Futo, and her long tails coiled loosely in a half circle around them. Futo wept a little bit more, her hand now to her face, and Tojiko, lightly brushed her shoulder with her cool touch.

"It seems like you know more than enough." Tojiko whispered.

       

       

      

      The other sword possessed by Konpaku Youmu was the Hakurouken. Miko did not know this either, but it too, had a special power. 

The spirits cut by the Hakurouken would reach enlightenment. To reach enlightenment is to escape the eternal cycle of rebirth, and to attain a place in Heaven.

1400 years ago, Miko had sought immortality, and threw away her body of flesh and blood, for one of steel and gold. But it had not been enough, and now that she lived her peaceful life in Gensoukyou, she dreamed of Heaven, of eternal trouble-free days and of celestial maidens pouring endless wine into bottomless cups.

Without Miko's presence in the temple, Futo dared to wonder for once. She wondered, _What would her highness dream of once she reached Heaven?_

1400 years ago, she too, had discarded her mortal body of flesh and blood, but for an entirely different reason. Her reason had been her ambition to serve her highness, Toyosatomimi no Miko.

With Futo's existence as a shikaisen a bit of a mystery even to herself, she was sure of one thing. She was no saint. She might not be able to join Miko in Heaven. However, Futo was not bound to the mortal world by that alone. There was something, or rather, someone, else.

1400 years ago, when her loyalty had left her cornered with the single option to slit her own throat in her highness' name, Futo had thrown out a single last lifeline. If she were to die alone; then that would be it. But if she were live forever, serve her highness forever, she didn't want to be alone.

With Futo on her knees before her, Tojiko had agreed. She had agreed on the condition that they make a promise. That they swore to not let anything get between the fact that they, from now on, would serve her highness together, side by side.

Reaching Heaven would be hard for Futo, however it would be undoubtedly impossible for Tojiko.

Tojiko sat, still with her hand on Futo's shoulder, drawing closer to her.

“Futo, it's fine.” She said, her voice firm but forgiving. “You don't have to tell me anything, you don't have to make your mind up about anything.”

Futo released a dry sob she had been holding back. Her body was tense, and she was trying hard to weep silently. “I just... needed to make sure you were aware.” Tojiko said treading lightly, Futo's state highly apparent to her.

Futo recoiled, and Tojiko's hand slid off her. With both hands she covered her face, trying to dry her tears, but when she looked up at Tojiko her cheeks were still wet. “How could you assume anything else?” Her voice was broken and her eyes were mild.

Tojiko felt relieved by her words, it was what she had hoped to expect. Futo had never been one to throw around words- or promises- thoughtlessly.

“Never would I, ever, forget.” Despite her words, her tone was gravely sympathizing. She looked down at the floor, and her voice regained it's poise. “The responsibility- the choice- lies in my hands.”

Tojiko had no more comforting words in these bleary circumstances. She only had her trust, and her silent sympathy.

       

       

      

       

       

      

      On her way up the mountain, Miko had been stopped by patrolling tengu. She had heard them in the distance, and traveling via the ground she hoped to remain undetected.

A foolish attempt, she would figure in the following moment. Although their ears weren't as sharp as her own, tengu eyes were in a league of their own. As the patrol approached her, she avoided eye contact, still walking steady up the path. _These guard dogs should be simple enough,_ she reasoned. _As long as I act natural, they'll let me slip by._

“Hey, you,” The tengu were quick however, and it was matter unavoidable, that one would eventually block her path. “What is your business on the mountain?”

She was a sturdy-looking girl, quite tall, armed with a long, broad sword on her back.

“My business?” Remaining relaxed, Miko feinted a puzzled demeanor. “Why, I'm just visiting a friend here on the mountain.”

 _Friend,_ a generous exaggeration. But like this, maybe they'd let it slide.

“I see. Who is your friend? Where do they live?” The tengu quizzed firmly. “If they are indeed residents of the mountain, I'll gladly escort you.”

This appeared to be typical procedure. Miko grew tired quickly. “Why is this? I am not allowed to visit my friend in peace?” She tried, playing victim.

“I'm sorry, but this is how we do things. If this isn't to your liking, you are free to leave.” The tengu explained. “We generally do not tolerate outsiders, but since you are here to visit a friend, it would be acceptable for us to escort you there.”

Miko deployed a different strategy. She approached the tengu with confidently, glaring up at her. “Do you know who I am?”

Leaning back, the tengu looked down at her, almost curiously. “I doesn't matter who you are, ma'am. It's the same for everyone.”

Miko considered a duel. That would however, undoubtedly call the crow tengu and cause a huge ruckus. Which was the opposite of what Miko wanted. She gave in, but refused to show any signs of defeat.

“I'm visiting the God of the mountain, my friend and colleague.” Miko said, poignantly, hoping to put the tengu in her place.

However, she appeared unsuccessful. “I see.” Was the simple response she got. “Very well. Follow me, Ma'am.”

Were all wolf tengu this overbearingly stubborn and brusque? As uncomfortable as it make her, Miko had to accept the tengu's company.

It was almost noon already, and on such a sunny day the thinning air made it surprisingly hot when you traveled by foot. Miko stood her ground however, in not wanting to fly, at least for longer distances.

When the shrine's first torii became visible in the distance, Miko grew impatient. “You can leave me here. I can see the shrine.”

“Excuse me but I'm obliged to follow you all the way and make sure you are indeed acquainted with the mountain God.”

Miko picked up her pace.

       

       

      

      She had only just reached the top of the stairs before she was called out once more.

“Well well well, who do we have here?" Perched a top the torii that marked the rugged stone steps to the very top were the shrine lay, was one of the mountain gods herself. Sitting hunched over, her legs crossed, Kanako looked remarkably satisfied.

Miko felt unsettled. Had Kanako been expecting her? “Why, isn't this quite the warm welcome.” Miko tried to play down the situation. “Can't say I was expecting that.” -But the slight animosity in her voice she couldn't bother to hide.

“Word travels fast.” Kanako said, she looked to the tengu accompanying Miko. “Thanks for your hard work, I was getting tired of waiting.”

The tengu nodded. “Just doing my job, Lady Yasaka.” She didn't seem particularly honored or humbled. Rather, it was the opposite.

“It's been a while. Miko, huh? ...Can I call you that?” Kanako indeed seemed to be in a good mood.

Miko forced a smile. “Please. Such a joker, as always, I see.”

“I try.” Kanako's smile grew pointed.

“I appreciate you coming to greet me, but in truth, it's not quite you I am here to visit, per se.”

Kanako laughed. “Oh yeah, I know.” She turned to cast an eye up the top if the mountain. “...And not quite me, you say?” _Were all Shinto gods one and the same to Shoutoku Taishi?_ Kanako wondered, amused at her simpleness.

“There are two gods of the mountain, aren't there?” Miko had already started walking up the stairs, crossing under Kanako, and into her field of vision.

With her back turned, Miko wouldn't see it; but Kanako's smile stiffened. “No. There's three.”

Miko choose to ignore her.

When wind blew at her back on this windless day, Miko needed not look to know Kanako was approaching her from behind. Catching up in an instant, now walking by her side, Kanako was a good head and a half taller. Miko had never particularly cared for tall people.

“Can't let you expect anything too grandiose of us today; it's just an average day here in our humble shrine.” Kanako said, sounding quite proud, her tone purposely contradicting her words. Just then, the Moriya Shrine appeared atop the horizon, aligned with towering iron pillars, surrounded by mighty billowing boulders on a backdrop overlooking all of Gensoukyou, with a reflection of the sun on the surface of Lake Suwa in the foreground.

Despite her chummy and relaxed front Kanako, Miko knew, was a cunning woman. The size of the shrine in itself wasn't much compared to some of Gensoukyou's other signature buildings, like the Scarlet Devil Mansion or the Myouren Temple, or even Miko's own Mausoleum. However, its location was as key as it was remote. As much as she hated to admit it, Miko was awed upon reaching the top. She had scaled mountains in the past, but none like this.

The Youkai Mountain as it was in Gensoukyou was after all, the highest peak of the Yatsugatake mountains, before Sakuya-hime tore it down in jealous frenzy. As such, it was the highest peak on the Japanese isles. The surrounding peaks and valleys too in contrast served a reminder of the height they stood upon. In the distance, Miko could see clouds below their level, she could see the patterns of cultivated fields like patches scattered across the landscape. She could see the curve of the earth's surface.

Kanako had taken note of Miko's silence. “You like it?” She asked, with renewed spirits.

“...Yes,” Miko replied, feinting a thoughtful tone. “It's a very nice location.”

Kanako smiled, her smugness only barely not showing; for the naked eye, at least. Miko could tell. “Ah, I just don't feel at home if its not in the mountains, you know? It's important to us, the unification of the land and the sky. As gods, leaving our home was a high risk, so I wanted to play it safe.”

“Yes... It must have been very tough for you.” Miko responded carelessly, unsympathetic. Then, she recalled something. “Oh? But I thought you said Suwa was not your home?”

Kanako made a quick pass at her. “Oh, no, not quite." They had stopped for a moment to consider the scenery, but Kanako now turned to lead Miko to the shrine front. “Just because I'm not from there, it doesn't mean it can't be home.”

Miko recognized her mistake. “True, I suppose.”

Kanako sat down theatrically on the shrine steps. “And this,” She said, putting weight into her words, just like she did in the poise of her posture. “...Is home now.”

Kanako gestured to her surroundings. She looked not at Miko, but straight ahead; ahead to the magnificent scenery that could be seen fully only from here. The scenery of all of Gensoukyou.

Nothing Kanako had done so far had been a coincidence; Miko could tell as much. Following Kanako's line of vision, and hearing the sentimentality echoing in her voice, Miko would have scoffed. She would have, had she not come here asking for favors.

“It has been nice to finally see the famous Moriya Shrine with my own eyes, but-” Miko opened up to relay her intentions, but Kanako cut her off.

“Yeah, you're here to see Suwako, right?” Kanako grinned, still not looking at Miko.

Miko brightened up a bit. Kanako was straight-forward at least, which was something Miko always appreciated. “Yes! Exactly.” How Kanako knew, Miko decided, was unimportant. For now.

So, when the conversation went to a stand still there, Miko was surprised. A second or two, passed. Kanako rolled her head from one side to another, cracking her neck and letting out a sigh. She got up.

“Um,” Miko didn't know what to say, and Kanako wasn't picking up on the conversation. “I'm here to see, ah,”

Kanako moved as if she was about to walk away and go along the porch. “Moriya Suwako-” Miko finally finished. “Your, _uh_...”

Kanako held back a laugh; but Miko had heard it clearly. Kanako was bemused, mocking... insulted? Miko felt the sweat prickle at the back of her neck.

“Yeah,” Kanako responded, still smiling. "Suwako."

“I need to see her. It's quite important.” Miko besought Kanako's good will.

Kanako was unimpressed, and went back to leaving. “She should come around. I don't think she's in now.”

Miko didn't want to left behind though. “I'm not sure you understand.” She stalked after Kanako, at a careful distance. “I need to see her as soon as possible. Can't you tell her to come here?”

Kanako stopped abruptly. She raised one eyebrow at Miko. “No?”

“No?” Miko questioned back.

“I don't know where she is.” Kanako didn't bother with any more an explanation than that.

“You don't know? How can you not know?” Miko was appalled.

Kanako, in turn had a not too different reaction. “...She's off doing something on her own. You'll have to wait until she gets back.”

“I'm afraid this can't wait.” Miko tried to reason.

“Oh really.” It was Kanako's turn to respond unsympathetically. She shrugged. “I'm afraid you'll have to stick around and wait.”

Kanako passed into the shade, fully intent on leaving.

Miko hesitated, but in the end, she couldn't hold herself back. “Aren't you supposed to be in charge around here?” She asked, and tried to pass it off as a joke. She barely managed.

Kanako stopped, and Miko thought it was a start. “Nah,” She said, after some thinking. “Not over Suwako at least, I'm not.”

“So it's true then?” This time, Miko pulled of the humorous tone much better. “That she's the one who's really running this shrine.”

Kanako smiled hollowly. “You-” Miko clearly detected the pity in her voice, and her emotions flared. “-Really don't get it, do you?”

Miko wanted to retort, but she had nothing at this moment. Why was Kanako pitying her now, she didn't understand. Kanako should be the one being belittled.

In silence, Miko held a stern expression.

“You'll just have to sit tight for now,” Kanako waved at her dismissively, her grin regaining it's liveliness. “Alright?”

 _No,_ Miko thought. This was not alright. It was not alright at all.

Turning her head back to the scenery, Miko decided to hold back her frustration. Right now, it would not be of any constructive use.

“Alright,” She repeated Kanako's words. “I will wait.” She tried to not sound too bothered.

“Good,” Kanako was on her way once more. “I'll be around, if you need me, probably.” An empty suggestion, they both knew, and Kanako was amused by the charades.

“Of course,” Miko said, as Kanako had already gone.

Once she was out of earshot, Miko drew a sigh. Somewhat hesitantly, she sat down on the shine steps. It was going to be a long day.

       

       

      

      Yuyuko had returned briefly to the village. Having entered at the same point as she had with Kasen just a day earlier, she walked down the same toute they had. Taking care not to attract too much attention, she didn't stray, and was quick to tend to her business.

If you try to sneak around, looking all lost, you'll probably be though of as a lot more suspicious, Yuyuko reasoned. Near the village gates, an elderly man she recognized from her previous visit was tending his shop where he sold crafts. Yuyuko had seen him at that time, and she was certain he had seen her as well, in the company of the trusted, one-armed hermit.

“Excuse me, mister,” Yuyuko had tried to dress a bit more modestly today, but it seemed that no matter what she would undoubtedly stand out. She wore her most amiable expression to try and make up for it. “-But do you know anywhere in town where they sell weaponry and such?”

The man had some sweat on his brow, although he sat in the shade. He tried to smile. “Ah, ma'am, yes,” He wiped his brow with his hand, and gestured down the street. “There should be a shop just down here, it's not a big one, they have mostly training gear and such, see.”

Yuyuko was relived. “Really? That's perfect.” However, she couldn't recall seeing such a shop last time. “Where is it, more precisely?”

“Go down the main street here, it should be about 3 blocks,” The man explained. A woman from inside the shop watched them, and Yuyuko met her eyes with a smile. The woman adverted her gaze, startled. “Then, turn right, and it should be to your left, right by the junction.”

“Really?” Indeed, it didn't sound very far. “Thank you very much.”

She left rather hurriedly, and the man barely had a chance to interject his response of a shambled “Don't mention it.”

Yuyuko wasn't used to actually having to walk to get around. She felt a shred of impatience, something else she also wasn't used to. When she reached the shop, it was modest like the old man had implied. From the street, it was hard to tell what type of shop it was, the only tell-tale was a container marking the end of this building and the start of the next. It was filled with leftover scraps, and what looked like the failed attempts at different types of merchandise, all to be recycled.

“Excuse me?” Inside, it was dully lit. When Yuyuko entered, lifting the curtain above her head, she appeared to illuminate the shop ever so slightly, a cold glister radiating from her individual.

The shop appeared to be unattended, and Yuyuko spent no time looking around. The walls were lined with displays of different kinds, unevenly utilized. The supply was somewhat limited, between hunting and utility knives to simpler swords, but also things in bamboo and wood, like fishing spears, and sparring gear. What else, the designs were straight forward and practical. Whatever ornamentation there was to the designs was quite juvenile. Yuyuko liked that, for that was what she had hoped for.

It reminded her of Youmu, and she thought, even in her depressed state as of late, those traits of her remained.

Yuyuko worked her way slowly along the wall, carefully eyeing the pieces on display. She had spent a lot of time thinking before coming here, and yet she was still only sure of one thing, and one thing only.

When the woman tending the shop came back in and spotted Yuyuko standing in the far corner, back turned, she only barely managed to swallow her shriek, throwing herself back into the door frame, clutching the materials she had been carrying. Yuyuko turned just as abruptly.

 _“Ah,”_ Yuyuko smiled, acting natural, an indirect display of stubbornness. “Please don't worry, I am no window-shopper or something scary like that!” Yuyuko let a laughter slip at her own words.

“Um, excuse me, but,” The woman was wary still. “How, exactly, can I help you?” She didn't leave the door frame.

“Oh, I've come here to buy.” Yuyuko turned again, but only partially, to look at the merchandise. Perhaps she should have focused more on dissolving the woman's fears, but she had come to the conclusion that she could hardly explain herself in any way that wouldn't instead have the opposite effect.

“I, I see.” The woman remained suspicious. “What manner of item may you be interested in, ma'am?”

Yuyuko met the woman's eyes. “I'm looking for something that's not a sword.”

Her appearance aside, Yuyuko's demeanor alone was often enough to put someone off. The woman was naturally puzzled, but less so at Yuyuko's words, and more so at her tone. It had a clarity in it, a clarity that originated from confidence or rather, a high level of decisiveness.

This customer, despite her odd request and her otherworldliness, was serious. This, was the shopkeeper quick to pick up on, and yet, dumbfounded she found nothing else to say but to repeat Yuyuko's words over for herself: “....Something that's not a sword?”

“Yes.” Not too quick, not too slow. Her response was leveled and, just like her request, serious. Yuyuko smile still, and politely so.

“Um, let's see...” The woman tried to rationalize. “Other than swords, we have different kind of knives, mostly.”

“Yes,” Yuyuko said, “I saw. I'm afraid that's not quite what I'm looking for.”

“I... I see.” The woman had started to move towards a set of utility knives suspended on the wall, but she stopped herself. “What else, we have some spears, but they are mostly in bamboo...”

Yuyuko nodded. “Yes, I considered it, but...” Her expression remained the same. “I'm sorry, it's still not what I need.”

“Um...” Such a fussy customer, the woman thought. In all her days, she's never had someone so strange. “I'm terribly sorry ma'am, I'm afraid we can't help you in that case.” Normally, she'd never turn someone down like this. “If our assorted goods isn't to your liking, then, perhaps, you could make a customized order, and we'll craft something to your liking.”

“Oh, no...” Yuyuko shook her head, her sweeping voice colored with just a bit of disappointment. “I'm afraid this matter can't wait. I must have it today.”

“Then, perhaps, I can direct you to another shop?” The woman hoped, finally, Yuyuko would catch on to how she couldn't help her. “There are other much bigger shops in town.”

“Again,” Yuyuko insisted, her voice still gentle. “I'm afraid I have to decline. I cannot dwell in the village any longer than necessary, as you can see.”

The woman didn't inquiry on what Yuyuko meant by that, not because she didn't wonder, but because the answer was obvious all the same. “....Ma'am, I'm sorry but, in that case, I'm going to need a few more details on what you want.”

“Hmm....” Yuyuko pondered. She looked over the shop once more, and just like when she had entered, her attention was drawn to one of the specific items for sale.

“I want something like that one.” Yuyuko pointed to something just behind the woman, and she turned to look.

A shiver down her spine, the woman registered what Yuyuko had pointed at. Glancing back at Yuyuko's face, she was just as earnest as she had been the entire time. She was indeed serious.

“Um, ma'am," Was this one of those youkai, or vengeful spirits, that caught you in a web of contradiction questions, haunting you? That would snap and kill you once you pointed the contradiction out to them? She hesitated to speak up. “... Ma'am, **that is a sword.”**

“Yes!” Yuyuko nodded. “I want something like it!”

“I thought you said you didn't want a sword?” It was becoming harder to remain as polite as she had wanted.

“Yes, I want something that's not a sword.” Yuyuko repeated.

Well, at least, as troublesome as this customer was, she appeared to have no ill intent worse than that. The woman was just a bit relived. As she recovered from her possible near-death experience, her lips loosened a bit. “Like I said... I don't think I can help you. I'm not even quite sure what you mean.”

“Well, I had hoped coming here would help me figure this all out to be honest.” Yuyuko admitted.

“You... were?” The woman allowed herself to sigh. “It's rather hard to help a customer who don't know what they want, so...”

“Oh, but I do know.” Yuyuko smiled again. “I want something that's not a sword.”

“... How about you have yourself a look around, then?” The woman was ready to give up. “Just let me know if you find anything you want.”

“I was hoping you could help me...” That slight edge of disappointment was back in Yuyuko's voice. It didn't reflect on her face whatsoever, though, and the woman grew skeptical.

“Well, I guess I could show you the storage.” Anything to get this bothersome lady happy, she thought.

The woman turned back, heading out the door she had come through. The storage was across the alley, in a different building, next to the forgery. Currently it was empty, no one was working the fires today. Following her back outside, Yuyuko cast her eyes to the main street on her right, now considerably busier than before. The steady stream of people has became something akin to a wall in the eyes of someone unused to such crowds. 

Then, Yuyuko was overcome by a distant, distant memory. It came as quickly as it had left her, but in that split second, she had stopped thinking. She had hardly ever been to the village before, what memories could lay here? She thought to when she had arrived earlier, and via that unrelated association, she remembered the container outside the shop.

Yuyuko turned around, and yes, it was still there. Sitting outside she shop it was, a container in wood with a solid bottom, open top, and sides with hastily nailed wooden boards. Struck with an idea, Yuyuko approached it curiously for a moment forgetting to walk, instead floating, hovering like she usually did.

Sticking up where things like hilts, wooden planks like the ones the box itself was made of, and things Yuyuko couldn't identify beyond scraps.

“Ma'am?” The woman had been a bit late to notice, and she had already made it inside before she had turned to see Yuyuko leaned over the box.

“...Ma'am?” The contents scrambled. Yuyuko had thrown herself over the side, but the box's planks were not at all strained, and in place.

It rustled, and then scrambled some more, metal against wood, and vice versa. With ease, Yuyuko swung herself back, and with her she reeled up a miss-mash of an odd-looking object, her eyes shining.

The woman hadn't had the time to make a comment.

“I want this one, please.”

“Ma'am, that's, well, it's not for sale....”

“Oh really?” Yuyuko played dumb.

In the end, matters were solved rather quickly, and Yuyuko payed for much more than just the raw materials. The woman was pleased.

Yuyuko eased into the crowds of steadily moving villagers, the mass of people working in her favor. Evening approached, and people were returning to their homes. In her arms, she carried her purchase. The woman had tried dressing it in a fabric casing meant for a sword, but it had been a bit too big. Instead, she had used something meant for much bigger goods, making for a somewhat bulky package.

Holding it in her arms, Yuyuko felt satisfied, and perhaps, even a bit hopeful.

       

       

      

      A barren land, and scattered across it, an ever so slight resemblance of civilization, and then from the earth born a single, shapeless god. Formed by the elements of the first ever divine realizations within the lands, she slowly took shape, transforming the land alongside her, bringing life and death. And as soon as the humans learned to fear her, she rooted into the soil, unwavering. 

If she had to put it into words, then that was what Miko had heard then, as this girl had come passing in between the sliding doors, otherwise completely unannounced.

Miko hadn't met anyone with this an overwhelming voice of mind since over 1400 years ago. In the year of the tiger, in month of the tiger, on the day of the tiger, in the hour of the tiger, Bishamonten himself had appeared before her and spoken of the prospering future of Buddhism in the country of Yamato.

As the girl approached, Miko vigilantly remained alert. She watched Miko with eyes like deep wells; translucent in color, but reflecting only the light from the eyeballs of whoever dares to peer inside.

At first glance she appeared very young, or at least very youthful. However, in only the first few seconds, Miko had to reevaluate her perceived age, regardless of her unquestionable ancient origin. There was dirt on her cheek, and the raised to brush it away, likewise she gestured to Miko in a greeting.

“Nice to meet'cha," She said, unconvincing. Her hand was also dirty, as were her bare feet.

“I'm Moriya Suwako.”

Suwako snuffled, and scratched her head. Her hair looked somewhat greasy. “I was told someone was waiting for me,” Her demeanor was negligent, her gaze now fixed at a spot somewhere in the distance. Judging by her look, it had been awhile since she had been home.

“That would be me.” Miko said, trying to cut things short without being rude.

Suwako's eyes rolled back to Miko. “And you are...?” She questioned, not patronizingly perhaps, but impolitely all the same. Miko found herself naturally subsiding into a submissive social position. If she wasn't frustrated already, she sure was now.

At this point, she really just wanted to get back home as quickly as possible.

“I'm Toyosatomimi no Miko. I'm-” Miko started, but Suwako was quick to cut in.

“Ooh, yeah, _yeah,_ you're her. Right,” Perhaps it was because of how tired she was, but Miko wasn't sure how to respond. “Um, yes, I'd assume you would know of me by now.” Miko managed to slip a slight criticizing tone in there.

Now, it was Suwako's turn to be confused. “Huh?” She squinted at Miko.

“Naturally,” Miko said forcing a smile, “The mountain god reads the newspapers?” Suwako's questioning look didn't fade. Miko pressed on. “And, wouldn't your uh, partner, have mentioned me by now?” This time Miko found herself using the very same word Kanako had that one time, over a year ago. She was playing it safe.

Still skeptical, Suwako responded, “Of course she has. Kanako's not the one to skimp it on the details anyway,” Miko still didn't quite get it, as if this couldn't get any more humiliating.

“And yeah, I read the news. It's not like I can afford not too.” Suwako added.

She turned to leave. “Anyway, um, I wasn't really expecting company, so uh, I gotta like, go and-” Suwako started approaching the shrine's front via the terrace, and Miko rose to a standing.

“I'm in a hurry. So please, I need to talk to you.” Miko grew alarmed.

“Uh, yeah?” Suwako stopped. “I'm gonna hear you out, but-”

“Could you, perhaps, hear me out right now?” Miko pressed on once more.

“Look, I just got home?” Suwako said, bothered. “I gotta take a bath, at least...”

Miko became acutely aware that she had indeed appeared uninvited to someone else's home, demanding time and attention. Even if her own situation was by no means normal, and may in fact require urgent attention, there was no way for anyone at the Moriya Shrine to know this. At the very least, all her attempts to make this fact known had been shot down. The casual, offhanded attitude she had been met with twice so far had of course been a thorn in her side. In order to get what she wanted however, she had to adapt, she had to accept this. Even if bitterly, she had to do it.

 _When in Rome,_ she thought, and decided she would wait, she would wait even if it took all day. “Of course,” She forced a smile once more. “How rude of me! Please, go ahead and take your time.”

Suwako nodded, “Yeah, sure.” and left, turning the corner and disappearing out of sight. Miko could hear her call out: _“Sanae!_ Did you get the towels in the dryer?”

Miko, fell back into her sitting position from before, wondering tiredly what a dryer was, and what towels were, and what connection they could have to exist in the presented symbiosis. She wondered, but only for a split second before making another realization. Her realization was connected to the memory she had of Kanako from the symposium a little over a year back. Then, she had used many such words, words only she herself understood, complicating everything. That was because the Moriya Shrine had existed on the outside until only about 6 years ago.

 _Of course,_ she though. _Of course._

With resentment, she remembered Suwako's confusion from less than a minute before, and it made sense. Suwako had already known of Miko for a long time; a very long time. Long, long before any of the gods or youkai native to Gensoukyou. Not only was she one of the Shinto gods of old, Suwako herself had once ruled a land on the Japanese islands. Naturally, she knew exactly who Miko was, without having to read any newspapers.

Miko couldn't believe she had made such a basic mistake. As she was silently cursing her continued state of stress, as well as that Yakumo Yukari, Kanako came through the same door that Suwako had used. 

“Oh, hey,” She said, as if surprised. Miko looked up at her. “You're still here, huh?"

“Yes, I am.” Miko said sternly.

“Suwako just came back, but she'll be a bit longer.” Kanako said, and shot her a smile. “Make yourself at home! Sanae's making dinner.”

Miko would rather not be indebted to the gods of the mountain. “Ah, no thank you. I'm fine, thank you.” Lest she would have to return the favor some day.

“It's fine, it's fine!” Kanako reassured. “I already told Sanae to make enough for four people, anyway.”

Miko couldn't seem to get anything her way under this roof. “Alright then, it'll be my pleasure.”

       

       

      

      Dinner was served. The Moriya household was full of unfamiliar things, words and concepts, and the cooking was no different. The pickled vegetables were about the same as they had been in her day, but the meat was dressed in some sort of oily, dense crust, and the sauces came in slender glass bottles that were all soft and bendable. Miko had tried to use one, opening it and turning it over, but nothing came out.

After a few seconds of awkwardly shaking the bottle in the manner she had seen the others do it, Kanako intervened. “Ya have to squeeze it,” She said, leaning over and snatching the bottle away. A well timed shake and squeeze, and out came the sauce.

Miko hardly felt thankful but mumbled a “Thank you,” regardless.

As for their conversations, it was all small-talk. Sanae, curious by nature, had a lot to ask, but as a conversation partner Miko felt mismatched. Sanae tried hard to accommodate so Miko could understand her, but with her limited knowledge it only made her mannerism all the more outlandish.

“You were in my middle school history books.”

At the very least, Sanae was a lot more polite than Suwako or Kanako were.

“ _O-_ Oh, really? And in the current era, middle school would be?”

Not that it mattered much when Miko could hardly understand her.

“Is it true you could read and speak extensively already as an infant?”

“Well, that one might be an exaggeration, but I was an exceptionally talented child.”

With Kanako and Suwako listening, Miko worded her responses carefully.

“Is it true you scaled Mt. Fuji?”

Miko laughed, and tried to not sound so strained.

The one Miko was actually interested in talking too, Suwako, turned out to be the most quiet one. At least at the dinner table, she didn't say much, and seemed mostly preoccupied with eating. Whenever she did speak, it was never with Miko. She was being ignored. Suwako didn't let Miko disturb her meal time.

Everyone had finished eating, and Sanae took care of the dishes, taking them off the table and into the kitchen.

“I read it, and anyway, once again we get the unfavorable treatment.” Kanako and Suwako were discussing something.

“It's not really so surprising.” Suwako seemed not to mind.

“They are such pushovers. I can hardly deal with it.” From the cabinet in the back of the room, Kanako retrieved a bottle of alcohol. “You want some?” She asked Miko casually.

Miko felt herself come back to life. “Absolutely.”

“I think it's better to not take such an authoritative tone. They seem to be sensitive about that.” Even without this comment from Suwako, Miko could easily guess what they were talking about.

Then, Miko heard voices outside. Not really listening as they failed to catch her interest, she noted them.

“That's funny. They are the most hierarchy-obsessed folks I've met in a long time.” Kanako seemed irritated, quite unlike the laid-back part of her Miko had been seeing so far.

“Isn't that exactly why they're so sensitive about it though? The oni left them not so long ago. I'm sure they don't want anyone else bossing them around.” Suwako seemed much less riled up, probably because she was not the one dealing with political affairs.

“I'm not even bossing them around!” Kanako complained. “I'm just trying to be cooperative.” At the very least, that was her side of the story.

The sake had been poured and they were all drinking. It hadn't been long though, until Sanae came to disturb them.

“Lady Kanako!”

“Hm?” Even before Sanae had appeared by the door, Kanako had snapped to attention. “What?”

“We, uh,” Sanae looked uncertain for once. “We have visitors, Lady Kanako.”

“Visitors?” It took Kanako a second to remember. “Oh, it's those kappa, right? I told them to come see me as soon as they could, but I didn't think they'd actually show this fast."

Kanako sighed. “Send them away,” She gestured to Miko. “I'm busy, anyway. We already have guests.”

“Actually, I,” Sanae seemed bothered. “Lady Kanako, well,”

“She already told them that.” Miko finished her drink one swift swing.

Kanako looked at Miko, and then back to Sanae. “Really?”

Sanae nodded, confirming.

Kanako was quick to grow irritated, roughly she scratched her head. “Well, I guess, I hav'ta talk to them, then,” She got up, groaning. “Ah, sorry, you two.”

“Really, don't mind me.” Miko was quick to respond.

Suwako didn't even look up. “Go easy on them now,” She said, jokingly.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Kanako left with Sanae, and Miko heard their conversation as they went down the hall.

“Terribly sorry about this Lady Kanako,”

“Ah, no no, really, don't worry,”

“....”

Miko reached to refill her cup. “She seems quite busy, doesn't she?”

Suwako didn't respond, at least not at first. “I guess.”

“It must be tough to have so many things on your plate.” Miko was just making small talk, really, but regardless, she was a bit fascinated by how hardworking Kanako seemed to be. She didn't really understand it herself, Gensoukyou was otherwise such a slow-paced place. Wasn't it?

“If it's not the tengu, it's the kappa, and if it's not the kappa it's the underground youkai...” Suwako, too, had a refill. "Honestly, it's getting kinda old."

“Oh, right, you people deal with the underground too.” Miko had forgotten, actually.

“... It's for good reason, though.” Suwako added in, a bit late.

Miko minded her drink, trying to not be so aware of how she suddenly had Suwako alone. She tried to think of a way to approach the desired topic, but Suwako didn't let the silence last between them for very long.

“In the line of the imperial family, you sure managed to stand out, despite not living for very long.” Suwako said, as if it was a most common conversation starter.

“Thank you,” Miko said simply, well aware it was not quite meant as a compliment.

Suwako met her gaze for once, grinning. “You really just dropped dead all offa sudden.”

Miko was quick to comment. “Well, I didn't die, to be exact,”

-But Suwako ignored her. “They grieved you, you know?”

“I hadn't planned to make my leave quite so long-lived.” Miko tried to not sound annoyed; she seemed to be doing nothing but that lately.

“Sure you didn't,” Suwako said, entertained. “But in the end, you ended up here, just like me. It's interesting to think about, isn't it?”

Miko didn't think it was particularly interesting, if anything, to her it just seemed obvious and perfectly logical.

“You're different from us, though,” Suwako said, and while Miko wasn't sure quite what she meant, but it was obvious she meant something.

“What do you mean?” Miko feinted a lighthearted chuckle, but her question was sincere. “Aren't we quite alike? We are all here for the same reason, after all.”

Suwako seemed to take this quite badly. She paused, and her eyes narrowing as she met Miko's gaze once more. “Oh really?”

A tense moment passed, Miko had decided to shut up this once. Again, she had somehow insulted one of the gods of the mountain. A scoff, and then a laugh came from Suwako, and Miko dared believe she had decided to simply laugh it off. “Tell me then, Taishi-” a honorary title perhaps, but no suffix, “... Why, are you here?”

As if to clarify, Suwako followed up on her own question. “What brought you here?”

Miko's first thought was of course, the fact that people had forgotten her on the outside, and thus she had been brought here. Everything about Suwako's tone of speech however, seemed to highly imply she was talking about something different entirely. In fact, Miko could clearly tap into her at this point; she was bitter, envious, and antagonizing.

What had brought Miko to Gensoukyou was her quest for immortality. _Is that what she means?_ Miko wondered.

But, weren't they all the same? Weren't they all just here to prolong their lives, living in this closed off ecosystem that emulated the days of the long gone past? Miko felt however, that such a retort wouldn't work on Suwako. It simply wasn't the response she wanted.

The tense atmosphere slowly dispersed, and Suwako straightened herself only to lean back on the table again. “Anyhow,” she said, as if changing the subject. She wasn't, Miko could tell. Although she was trying to hide it now, her voice was the same.

“I've seen it happen many times, you know?” Suwako didn't wait for any response. “Civilizations, coming, going, that is... Even my own, ha. They do that, you know?”

What Miko was thinking then was, how different the two gods of the mountain where. She had imagined they would be, but not quite like this. Suwako she has pictured as possibly highly eccentric, but she was more overbearing than Miko had predicted.

“I wonder...” Suwako said, speaking as if she didn't care for any response. “How long will Gensoukyou last us?”

“Not very long, at this point.” Miko responded sharply, irritated. “Everyone here seems quite deranged, after all.”

Suwako laughed again. “Right, yeah. But that's not something that worries you, is it?”

“It is tragic to see the humans in this land degrade themselves so, becoming dependent on youkai,” Miko said, holding this idea close to heart, “... But other than that, it might be good riddance once it all falls apart.”

“Hmmm, yeah.” Suwako said, thinking. “You really are different from us.”

Miko decided to not question that.

“Although, speaking strictly in terms of your existence...” Suwako said, in fact confirming Miko's already proved theory that they, until now, hadn't been speaking about that. “You're not too different from Kanako, I guess?” Suwako finished, again looking at that spot behind Miko, somewhere in the distance.

“In fact,” Suwako snorted. “You might be more like her than I am.” This time, Miko needed not to rely on any special ability to hear the clear bitterness in her voice.

A little taken back, Miko kept silent. Suwako downed her drink.

“Anyway,” Suwako put her hands down on the table, abruptly, this time intending to change the subject for real, Miko could tell.

“I'm growing tired of this conversation, plus I had my drink. You're here for that sword, aren't you?” Suwako pointed at the sword that now rested, still bundled up, by Miko's side.

“Yes, that's right,” Miko confirmed, feeling a surge of energy.

Suwako stood up, and gestured down the hall.

“Come with me.”

Eager, Miko collected her belongings.

       

       

      

      “-A present...” Fumbling, with that streak of uncertainty, before she got out the package. It was wrapped in brown paper, with raw string, it was rectangular, a bit bendy, and not very big. As a result, the contents were rather obvious.

“I brought you a present,” She managed to clarify, holding it down.

“A book?" Seated, Tojiko became just a bit curious as Futo slid the package into her hands.

Futo sat down next to her. Today again, they had met on the balcony outside Tojiko's room. “Yes,” Futo confirmed. “Since it appeared so, that you had gotten into reading...”

“How thoughtful of you,” Tojiko sounded surprised more than anything else, as she tore the wrapping off.

“Ah, well...” Futo leaned on the railing. “You are confined in here most of the time, and, it is important to learn of the world around you.”

“ _Touhou Gumon Shiki,_ heh!” Tojiko announced the book's title. She was quick to read the glossary. “It's the same series as the other one?” It was less a question, and more just an affirmation.

“Yes, it appears so.” Futo too, glanced to look at it. She already had skimmed some parts, but she herself was rather curious of it still. “It was written before we ever set foot in Gensoukyou, yet, it is still new enough to remain relevant to current affairs.”

“Well that makes sense,” Tojiko flipped through it. “I mean it's only been so long.”

With a sigh, Futo laid down on her side.

“Where did you get this?” Tojiko asked. It was a nice copy, she thought.

“In town, there is a small rental bookshop,” Futo had heard of it at the banquet. “Apparently the owners are friendly with the Miare Maiden who writes the Gensoukyou chronicles, as well as the Hakurei shrine maiden. I got curious and decided to give it a visit.”

“Really?” Tojiko didn't sound that interested, she was more interested in the book. “What was it like?”

“It was a strange shop.” Futo admitted. “It appeared regular at first glance, but once I spent some time there, I started feeling restless.” She thought back to when she had bought the book. “The young lady minding she shop was very sweet, however.”

“She kept talking about the recent incident, she was rather knowledgeable about it all, and in such detail. I was a bit surprised.” Futo looked up at the sky. Today, it was clear. “She insisted I come back sometime. I suppose I shall, even if I rather not.”

“Why not?” Tojiko was already reading, listening only so closely.

“It was a strange shop.” Futo repeated. “It made me a bit unnerved, like there was something not quite right.” For there to be something to give you such a feeling, in broad daylight, in the middle of the village. That was probably the thing that worried Futo the most.

“Huh...” Tojiko turned a page. “I guess there really are all manners of places around here, even in the village.”

Futo said nothing, watching Tojiko read. Tojiko noticed.

“Do you want to read this too when I'm finished?” Tojiko needed not gesture to the book, but did so anyway. “It won't be too long.” She wasn't a particularly fast reader, but she had little else to do.

“No, mind not me.” Futo shook her head. “It was a present after all. Please keep it.”

“Oh but, didn't you say we should learn what we can about Gensoukyou?” Tojiko asked, certain Futo had her reasoning.

“Yes, and that I am trying to do...” Like today, when she had visited that strange bookshop.

“Like, a bit more hands-on?” She smiled, but despite their attempt at a lighthearted exchange, Tojiko grew melancholic. As for why now exactly, she was yet to pin-point.

“Yes, that is the idea.” Futo felt it too, but said nothing in regards of it. She looked into the sky once more, and still, it was clear. Today again, there was nothing to be seen.

Ponder she did once more, as the sun shone stronger today, and the wind was calmer. It was indeed important to learn of the world in the time one spent living in it. “I wonder...” Futo felt a suffocating need to turn her thoughts into words. “I wonder, what manner of place is Heaven?”

Tojiko looked up from her book.

“Apparently,” Futo continued, “In that book, there is a chapter dedicated to that.” Futo laid still, but felt Tojiko's eyes on her. “Maybe, after you read it, we could discuss it.”

Tojiko tore her eyes away, and back to the book in her lap. Hurriedly, she flipped the pages back, back to the glossary at the start. “There's... There's not but,” Her finger had stopped at a sub-directory on the list. “There is a part about celestials, though.”

“Oh, but the young lady in the shop implied there should be...” Futo turned. “Under locations, perhaps?”

“... There's not.” Tojiko said, shaking her head. “We got Higan, Muenzuka, the Netherworld.... but not Heaven. But I guess it's good enough.”

Tojiko calmed back down. “It's not like all the info in these is all right anyway... Obviously.”

“I do suppose so.” Futo agreed.

“In the other book, though,” Tojiko smiled a little as she remembered. “The black-white said that apparently Heaven is a very boring place. She wouldn't recommend it.”

“She said such a thing?” To Futo, the statement had little relevance, regardless of how plausible it seemed.

“Imagine though,” Tojiko's voice had become strangely mild, and again it drew into that melancholy. She felt like she could name it now. “Just the two of us. It may just be a blessing in disguise.”

Futo laid on her back, she swallowed harshly and for only a split second the scenario materialized in her mind. She dared not explore it anymore than that, for what if any ideas solidified, she would never wish for her highness to hear her thinking of such things.

As a result, Futo didn't know. She didn't know if it would be a blessing, or it if would be anything at all. She was scared for what the thoughts would entail, and bring.

“I'm sorry,” Tojiko needed not to look at Futo. “I shouldn't have said that.”

“No,” Futo knew it didn't matter. “Me thinking of it was a matter unavoidable at this point.”

“Yeah,” Tojiko had feared that. “I guess so.”

“Perhaps, it may even be for the best, it happen now, and not later...” Since last night, Futo felt as if she had her mind covered with a veil.

Tojiko was also scared. She was scared of being alone, again. “I know it's tough.” She tried to convey that, but she didn't really manage to. “I mean... You rely on her.”

“I rely on you both.” Futo replied curtly.

Futo turned back on her side, and Tojiko stared onto the page before her, not reading any longer.

“On her highness, I rely on for guidance, purpose...” This Futo had, throughout all her life. “And on you, I rely on for remembrance, companionship...”

In this world, they were both alien, but they had the same origin, and they could understand each other. Tojiko looked up from her book, from that glossary page endlessly listing people she had never met.

“Right.” She allowed herself a smile, and Futo could hear it in her voice. “We're in this together, at least.”

 _For now,_ they both thought, and simultaneously, they also reasoned it was best not said aloud.

Tojiko went back to reading, flipping past the glossary once more. Futo eventually sat up to watch the front yard. With Miko gone, and having passed by the village, Futo's day had been busier than usual. Early to rise, early to bed, the trainees were hard at work. Evening was here.

“It would be a pity though.” It would be several minutes later when Tojiko broke the silence once more. Futo had slipped into a somewhat drowsy state, her head on the railing.

“What would be?” She looked at Tojiko who too had leaned on to the railing, but on her side, now hunched over the book. She was sitting just like Futo had found her yesterday. Her tails billowed as if in slow motion, only just barely grazing Futo's legs.

“I mean, like,” Tojiko turned a page, her eyebrows knotting. Futo suddenly feared she had any reason to be angry.

“Like, obviously, Gensoukyou is somewhat lacking in long-lived, nosy humans, that question their surroundings,” Tojiko had skipped forward to the profiles covering humans. “Or, at least ones with any head for politics, or with any sort of ability to bring new ideas to the table.”

“Ah, yes,” Futo was catching on.

“In the long run, they'll stagnate, no doubt. Especially with all the long-lived youkai setting up all the rules.” Listening to Tojiko, Futo was surprised to hear she was already quite on top of things. Perhaps even more so than Futo herself.

In life, she had been the more politically active one out of the two of them. Futo knew Tojiko had some talent to it, even if it was in some ways overshadowed by her personality. The types of politics Tojiko had often been involved with back then weren't very applicable in Gensoukyou, either.

“If she just got into it, and made an effort to adapt a bit, I'm sure she could help make a difference. But no, her highness is still more keen to seeing to her own needs.” Tojiko muttered. She turned the next page with a bit more force than needed.

“It indeed would be a tragedy if she would never use any of her competence to help those who are insufficient, or suffering.” Having been worried all about herself, and Tojiko, Futo hadn't considered that side of it.

“We are pretty closed off over here, but it would be absurd to in anyway imply we are independent. We aren't. If something actually bad were to happen, it would affect us too.” Without looking up Tojiko nodded in the direction of the front yard. “Like, where you think all the disciples come from?”

Futo stared down at them. They were cleaning up after today's training.

“And the food?” Tojiko continued. “I could go on. Basically, it's not so far-fetched to give back to the community. Actually give back to the community, at large, and not just those charmed by promises of wisdom, religious insight, or immortality.”

Tojiko shook her head. “There was the incident this summer, but reading about it, seeing as it involved that menreiki, shouldn't she have been more on top if things? I mean, it was all connected to her.”

“And in the symposium,” Tojiko was getting angrier, and Futo watched her carefully. “They all say such admirable things, but what does it all account for in the end? That's something I'd honestly love to know.”

Futo herself wasn't sure what to think of it all. She did, however, agree with one thing Tojiko had said.

“Her highness has knowledge and experience Gensoukyou doubtlessly needs.” Futo said this with a level of sternness unusual for her. Tojiko met her eyes, and finding agreement with Futo, her anger stopped rising.

“As you say, it would be a great loss if she left it all behind, all which she has started to build here.” Futo concluded.

Tojiko sighed and shook her head. “I hope... I hope she realizes this herself.”

With that said, silence befell them once more. Futo watched at the trainees still. Most of them had left the yard now, heading indoors. Dinner was soon.

“Would you mind a quiet mealtime today?” The idea had come to Futo that very instance, and Futo had blurted it out. “I'll send after someone to deliver the food up here.”

Tojiko didn't think about it too carefully before agreeing. “Sure, why not.”

“I am a bit too fatigued to sit with everyone today.” Futo admitted.

“That's understandable.” Tojiko had never liked gatherings. “It'll distract from her highness not having returned either.”

“In a matter of days, it will be too cold to sit on the balcony like this.” Futo added, smiling for the first time that evening. “I would hate not to make use of that.”

Tojiko missed their less serious conversations.

“Yeah. That's true.”

She hoped the two of them would have more chances like this to talk in the future.

       

       

      

      The sun hadn't yet sunk all that low in the sky, but it was low enough. It signaled to Youmu that she could no longer immerse all her thoughts into gardening. Soon enough, she'd have to put it aside, and she'd have to go back inside, she'd have to face Yuyuko, and that wore her out.

The work was tough, and she was thankful. Preparing for winter was always a duty she the awaited with mixed feelings. She was proud to shoulder the responsibility, and she enjoyed working diligently with something that required such care. The trees, the bushes and the plants all relied on her, they relied on her to safely survive winter, so they could bud once more, and revitalize themselves in spring.

If the flower gardens of Hakugyokurou were Yuyuko's pride and joy, then that pride and joy lie just as much in Youmu's blood, sweat and tears.

They were both aware, and it was a silent understanding between the two of them. An understanding that brought them comfort and solidarity in their everyday existence.

Youmu wiped sweat of her face, and stared into the sun for a bit too long, her eyes aching. Those very feelings of solidarity towards her master, and her pride in that relationship was why she drawn her sword the night of the banquet. Yes- she had been approached by Yukari before that- but to Youmu, everything else had been secondary the moment her role as a servant had been questioned. Yukari had wished her to challenge Toyosatomimi no Miko, and for whatever reason, Youmu herself wasn't fully aware. If she could cleanse Lady Yuyuko's name and please Lady Yukari at the same time however, then, that would just have been convenient.

Her regret lied not there, but in what had happened next.

Just like Yukari had claimed, Youmu had aimed to sever Miko's sword in half. Knowing well she could, with the information she had been given: that much had been clear. Youmu had disregarded the possible consequences.

In the end, things had gone well for Yukari. Matters had gone beyond expectations in terms of what she wanted to accomplish, and she had Youmu's recklessness to thank for it.

She had patched up the shattered Roukanken no questions asked. Youmu was glad they hadn't spoken. She'd rather not hear about how exactly Yukari had manipulated the boundaries of the Roukanken's circumstances. Lest it be something like “the boundary of the negative versus positive effects of the wielder's thoughtlessness”. 

Youmu had made her mind up already, and she had decided things weren't going to be the way they had been. It was years ago now, but she remembered still, the freezing winter day and the tears all over her cheeks. She had lost her Lady Yuyuko's Soul Torch, and she had tried to cover up for it, clumsily, foolishly. This time would be different, she had thought. She had admitted to her faults, and she was prepared to face the consequences. Despite this, things hadn't quite gone as she had wanted. Her trials had not yet ended.

Youmu wished the daylight would linger for just a bit longer, she wished she could distract herself for just a bit longer. Catching herself thinking such childish things, almost giving in to such evasive behavior, she became all the more downcast. Had she in reality not changed at all?

The wheelbarrow screeched and Youmu decided she would oil the wheel first thing tomorrow. She came closer to the mansion, the sun at her back, her eyes landed at her own shadow. The sun stung no longer in her eyes, but on her bare neck. She was wearing her hair up today again, as usual when she tended the garden.

Distracted, Youmu's mind was on the dinner preparations, on how she wished she could enjoy the idle chatter of absurd topics that Yuyuko would undoubtedly try to engage her in. Since the incident, she couldn't even enjoy the merciful silence between them. It came and went, signaled by Yuyuko's shifting gaze, for once becoming fixed.

What else, the reason Youmu couldn't enjoy it was because it felt misplaced. Despite having admitted her faults, she was being pitied, patronized, and she couldn't bear it.

The wheelbarrow creaked into its place in the storage shed. The walls cast long shadows yet compared to the Hakugyokurou, it was naught but a shed, but it was regardless the mansion of sheds. Youmu shut the doors, and the endless rows of hung tools rattled. The wayward spirits that had taken refugee under the foundation scattered, and Youmu took a moment to watch them, envious.

Walking the pathway in front of the mansion, Youmu rose her arms in the air, stretching. She heard something snap in her back, and her ghost-half quivered in the air. A split second of satisfaction, and then, she felt just as tired again. Likewise, her arms fell down to her sides, and unconsciously one hand rose to touch the back of her neck.

“Are you sure you don't need a scarf or anything while working out there?”

Youmu might have been more surprised, but Yuyuko often intercepted her return at the end of the day like this.

“I appreciate it M'lady, but it's not quite that cold yet.” Youmu turned to face her where she stood, leaning out a window. Her smile was curved. It was a bit more like it usually was, and Youmu noticed.

“Yes, indeed.” Elbows propped on the windowsill, Yuyuko put her head down on her hands. “The sun is still unusually strong, don't you think?”

Youmu hadn't thought about it at all. She had inadvertently noticed, but she hadn't thought about it. She had had way too many other things on her mind. “... Now that you mention it, it does appear that way M'lady.”

“Exactly!” Yuyuko brightened. The sun was at Youmu's back, but it was shining right on Yuyuko's face. “So you should wear a scarf or something, don't you think?”

Confounded, Youmu thought. It had been a while. It had been a while since Yuyuko had tried to mislead her with one of her silly riddles.

This one was rather easy though. Youmu was still touching her reddened neck. “... I appreciate it M'lady.” She smiled carefully.

“I'll get you something to wear by tomorrow,” Yuyuko leaned back, out of the sunlight and into the shade cast by the roofing. “... Yes, a nice scarf that goes with the rest of you.”

“I was just about to head inside to make dinner, so, if you don't mind.” Youmu moved along the yard.

“Oh, of course! Please do!” Yuyuko waved from the window.

Youmu had turned to wave back, and Yuyuko leaned out the window then, watching her leave.

       

       

      

      They still had pickles left from last fall. This year again they would run out just in time for the fall harvest. Youmu had a quick taste just to make sure, and indeed, they still tasted bland. The rice boiled, the steam pleasant on her face. Youmu stared out at the garden, almost longingly, and she felt her stomach churning. Despite having worked hard all day, she wasn't very hungry.

Yuyuko waited in the dining room; the smaller one. Youmu carried their trays through the corridor, past rows of doors. She counted them, one, two, three, four. Setting down the tray at the fourth door, Youmu knelt before the sliding door before she slid it open.

“Dinner is served.” She announced, her voice leveled. Rising to enter, she stopped again inside the door, putting the tray once more to close the door. Her movements calculated, Youmu found herself focusing on this familiar task a bit more than usual.

Yuyuko tried to peer at the food from where she sat, leaning back indiscreetly. Youmu approached her, and as she set the plates down in front of Yuyuko she clapped her hands excitedly.

“Oh, what's this? What's this, Youmu?” She asked, as usual she was intrigued by these details of everyday occurrences.

Youmu could still not always tell for sure when she was being sincere and when she wasn't, and today that realization stung a bit. Still, she tried to remain professional.

“Today's dinner is,” Youmu gestured with her whole hand, stiff and firm, to the biggest plate on the tray, “Three types of fish-” Indeed, three fillets lay there, forming the Chinese character for the number. “-One red, two white.”

Yuyuko had already gotten her chopsticks, and tapping them against her bottom lip, she listened.

“Next,” Youmu moved on, “We have freshly harvested, steamed beets and sweet potato, from the years' first harvest.”

“Oh really?” Yuyuko perked up. “That will be very interesting.”

Youmu would have agreed. “Then, lastly, the last batch of our very own pickles... From last year's harvest.” Youmu thought the pickles looked a bit pitiable in their tiny bowl. She had wanted them to last longer.

The rice needed no explanation.

Youmu got up to sit across of Yuyuko, with her own nearly identical set of plates. The fillets on Yuyuko's plate had nicer shapes, and her root vegetables were more evenly numbered. Youmu had more red than she had yellow in her bowl. She always did this, and she always had, but never before has she found herself wondering if Yuyuko noticed.

Normally, the master of the household and her attendant would not eat together. In this big, old building, there was only the two of them, and it was a tradition Youmu had accepted before she had learned to question it.

Yuyuko said her grace, and Youmu followed suit. Yuyuko ate, and Youmu did too, but her thoughts still lingered out in the garden.

“You're hard at work recently, aren't you,” Yuyuko said, and for once, Youmu had been able to predict her.

“Yes...” Youmu responded slowly. She was indeed working hard. Working hard to distract herself. “There is a lot to do, after all.”

Her drab answer was a bit out of character, Yuyuko thought. “I know your speed is your strong point,” Yuyuko reasoned, “But it is important to know your limits.”

Youmu looked down at her food. “Yes, M'lady.”

The Hakugyokurou gardens were large, large beyond the imagination of some. Naturally, Youmu had to be fast, and she had to start early.

Youmu felt just a little bit more at ease. The rest of their meal was spent mostly in silence, but this time it was a reasonably comfortable silence.

Yuyuko put down her chopsticks, and Youmu, who had finished before her with little appetite, rose to get her plates.

“Thank you as always for the meal,” Yuyuko relayed with a sigh.

Youmu just nodded. “Was there anything that didn't suit your liking, M'lady?”

“Yes, well...” Yuyuko cocked her head childishly. “I just wish our pickles were tastier. No matter how long we wait, they never seem to get the taste we want...”

It was the frustrating truth. Youmu wondered for how long you'd have to wait for the netherworld's pickles to get the same taste as those from the living world. “Do you want me to buy pickles for you again next time, M'lady?” She asked.

“Oh, would you?” Yuyuko sounded a bit relived. “You know I'd rather eat your cooking, but...”

Youmu didn't take any offence. She wanted to eat pickles from the world of the living as well. In the netherworld, everything was slow to stagnate. “If it suits your needs, I will gladly buy some, Lady Yuyuko.”

Yuyuko smiled. “Of course you will!”

Youmu responded by nodding once more, too tired to comment on the change in Yuyuko's tone. As she had gathered all the plates back on her tray, Youmu rose once more.

“Oh, and one more thing about today's dinner,” Urgently, Yuyuko seemed to have remembered something.

Equally so, Youmu had stopped. “What is it, M'lady?”

Troubled, Yuyuko spoke. “My conversation partner is lacking some luster, don't you think?”

Youmu barely strangled the yelp in the throat. “Well, I,” Avoiding eye contact, she lowered her head. “I'm terribly sorry, M'lady.” Not sure what else to say, Youmu thought frantically.

“I'm giving you a chance here, Youmu,” Yuyuko spoke just a bit sternly. “So, please.”

A chance? Youmu wasn't sure how much she should read into that. She remembered her resolve, but not finding any words, she remained quiet.

“I want some tea, Youmu.” Yuyuko turned her head away. “So, please, go make some, and come back here.”

“Of course, naturally, M'lady,” Youmu staggered a bit. “I'll go at once.”

“Yes, good. Hurry along, now.” Yuyuko encouraged.

Youmu left, just as she had come, but lacking some of her original grace. As she was to put down the tray and close the door, she was too fast, and leaned forward a bit too much, the bowls and plates sliding across the polished wooden surface of the tray.

Back in the kitchen, the water wouldn't boil fast enough. Youmu stood over the stove, having already readied the teapot and cups. She wondered what Yuyuko's criticism was supposed to imply, but wondering didn't get her far. No, she could only do as she had been told.

Pouring the water in the pot, she was on her way, steadily growing worrisome. Upon returning some ten minutes after she had left, Yuyuko still sat in her place, as if she hadn't moved at all. Youmu realized it wasn't so however, for she saw Yuyuko had something by her side now.

Repeating over again the process of entering the room, Youmu brought in the tea.

“Ah, that was fast.” 

“I tried to hurry, M'lady,” Between the two of them, Youmu set the cups down.

Pouring the tea, Youmu drew back her distance and settled in her seat. “The water was boiling just now, so please be careful as you drink.”

Youmu eyed the package Yuyuko had by her side. Youmu had wanted to dismiss it, but knowing Yuyuko, everything usually meant something. She considered asking, even, but hesitated.

Yuyuko, sharp as ever, was quick to pick up on it.

“You're wondering about this, aren't you, Youmu?” She brought it into her lap. It was rather long, and a bit bulky, it's exact shapes hidden by the covers.

“Y-yes,” Youmu found no reason to deny it. “It looks... rather peculiar, so it caught my attention when I entered.” Youmu tried to not get so nervous.

“Actually,” Yuyuko suddenly got just a bit excited. Youmu, in turn, was put on edge. “I wanted you to open it for me, Youmu!”

“R-Really?” Youmu swallowed.

With a slight giggle, Yuyuko got handed the odd package to Youmu, who cautiously accepted.

“What in the world is this, I wonder?” Nervous, Youmu looked between Yuyuko and that which she had just handed her. Yuyuko said nothing, her hands folded calmly in her lap.

Undoing the string tied across and around it, the soft cloth came loose, and Youmu saw it was something like a sword cover. With ice piling up in her stomach, she drew a sharp breath. Actually feeling inside though, it felt nothing like a sword.

“M'lady, is this-” Youmu had no idea what this was supposed to mean. It was all quite bizarre. “-is this a plank?”

Yuyuko held back some laughter. “Be careful so you don't get splinters!”

Just then, Youmu pulled it out, and saw the monstrosity.

“Well?” Yuyuko asked curiously. “Do you like it?”

It was the hilt of a large knife, no doubt, perhaps something used for clearing terrain- or gardening. Or, at least it had been, at some point. Much of the grip had been worn down, wrapped with odd ends of leather straps. From it also dangled something like a tassel of ornamental strings, decorated with all manner of things, beads, ribbons and such. In the place of a blade, Youmu had been close in her guess. It was a long, rough slab of firewood, one end chiseled down to fit into the hilt. It had been treated roughly and, in places, different shapes appeared to have been cut out.

“To be honest with you M'lady,” Youmu didn't know what to say except the truth. “It's awful.”

Yuyuko didn't hold back her laughter anymore.

“It's positively the worst thing I've ever seen.” Youmu felt like laughing herself.

What Yuyuko had bought was indeed something meant to be deconstructed, and the materials recycled. The iron was supposed to be melted down once more, and the leather scraps mended together and the wood used to sustain the fires. As for what it had been used for, it hadn't been used for anything. In itself, it was something the trainees has used for learning, for testing different techniques before heading onto more precious materials and make proper merchandise. In the end, at the hands of many artists using it as a guinea pig, it had ended up like this.

Youmu, not knowing the full story, kept twisting and turning it in her hand. Baffled, she was trying to comprehend it's nature, trying to find any context to fit it into.

“You can use it, if you like.” Yuyuko offered, simply.

“Huh?” Youmu was still in a daze. “Use it?”

“Yes, _if you'd like.”_ Yuyuko's voice sharpened towards the end of the sentence. Youmu caught on.

“But, I...” She didn't want to do this again. “I said I wouldn't-”

“You said you wouldn't be my guardian anymore, didn't you?” Yuyuko cut in. “And, that you were not worthy to hold a sword in your hands?”

Warily, Youmu looked at the oddity she held, alerted by the implications.

The hilt was the hilt of a larger knife, and among the various decors there was a fastened feather plume, belonging in the tail of an arrow. There was no blade. Whatever it was that Youmu held in her hands, it was not a sword.

“I though it'd be waste if you got behind in your training, so I went out and bought this.” Yuyuko leaned down to bring the teacup to her lips. It had finally cooled off.

Yuyuko had tasted the tea as Youmu sat in silence, warily contemplating her words, feelings swelling.

The tea was bitter, but delicious. “Like this,” Yuyuko's voice was as pleasantly sweeping as ever, “You can keep improving even now. How else you going to become worthy of being my guardian once more, if you don't keep up on your training?”

“I...” Youmu drew a deep breath. “...Th-thank you.” Her voice was low.

“What was that, Youmu?” Yuyuko inquired, leaning forward just a bit.

 **“Thank you.”** Youmu said once more, now louder, perhaps a bit too loud. Her shoulders shook a little, and she sniffled. She was happy, but also a little sad. She had been outsmarted.

“It is missing something though,” Yuyuko still wasn't completely done. Her voice was wistful, and already misty-eyed, Youmu thought she had nothing left to lose.

“What may that be, Lady Yuyuko?” She asked, trying not to make her voice so broken.

“I wanted to get it engraved...” Yuyuko sighed. “But it was on such a short notice, so they said it was impossible.” She complained.

“Engraved?” Youmu smiled, feeling awkward. “What, perhaps, did you want to get engraved?”

“Something like...” Yuyuko stared up at the ceiling, thinking. “... _"Sorry for not yelling at you,"_ maybe?”

Youmu held her breath, but the sniffle came out anyway. Staring down into her lap, she blinked furiously to keep the tears from falling. “I... I think,” She started, smiling, but her voice trembled. “I think this is the first time Lady Yuyuko has given me a present.”

“Oh?” Suddenly, Yuyuko sounded insulted, even if only mockingly so. “When did I ever say it was a present?”

“R-right,” Youmu dried her eyes with her entire arm. “You didn't, terribly sorry.”

“You're just borrowing this from me, Youmu.” Yuyuko corrected her. “It probably won't be for long, either. Right?”

Youmu tried to make a serious face, but it was hard. “Right. Exactly.” She sniffled again, drying the tears that had started to spill.

“Here,” Youmu looked up to see Yuyuko offer her handkerchief. “You can use this, Youmu.”

Youmu reached out and took it from her hand. After lowering her head in a nod, Youmu raised it to her face.

“Thank you,” She said once more, muffled.

Yuyuko watched her with a carefully optimistic smile, relived to know that soon enough, things would be back to normal.

       

       

      

      When she suddenly grabbed the sword, Miko was a bit alarmed. She never let anyone else hold it, but Suwako was quick to help herself.

When she held it by the hilt, and when she drew it out the sheath, at was with remarkable fluidity. Miko was quick to note her handling with the sword was definitely not that of an amateur, in fact it was the exact opposite. The image of Suwako wielding a sword into battle presented itself to Miko, and while that felt somewhat off, it would be natural to assume she had long experience with swords.

“This is quite the beautiful piece,” Suwako noted. “Not too convenient a design, but, hmm...”

Miko wasn't really interested in hearing Suwako's thoughts on the matter of the sword's design, at least not under these circumstances.

“When I was young, I only cared about the sharpness of the blade, how well it kills, how little it burdens the user, and such...” Miko was even less interested in hearing stories of Suwako's youth. That must have been before they had developed any refined tastes, after all, Miko thought.

“So it is nice to see you knew better in your early life.” With Suwako's words, Miko perked up. Had she just been complimented, and genuinely so?

“T-thank you?” Miko responded, quickly.

“Yes, it is indeed beautiful.” Suwako inspected the blade itself closer, and its edge. “It's well-crafted, too. ... At least for a work by humans.”

Shot down as quickly as her spirits had been lifted, Miko decided to ignore the last comment.

“Oh, but I presume,” Suwako sounded humored, “This here missing splinter isn't what's giving you a headache, is it?” Suwako's fingers has stopped at the edge, and curiously she peered at the oddity, turning her head on the side.

Miko had had more than enough time to think of what to say, “Actually-”

But didn't get anywhere before Suwako continued, ignoring her. “-I mean, if it was just this, you wouldn't make such a fuss, right?”

Miko didn't even bother to try and smile, thinking to herself, if perhaps Kanako and Suwako had spoken without her having heard in on it. It shouldn't have been possible, and yet, it seemed that way, somehow.

“Yes, that is true.” Miko gave up. Her determination slipped out of her grasp, and she found herself slumping a bit accordingly.

As carelessly as she had picked it up, Suwako let the sword down, back on the cloth, with a thump.

Miko thought it was a sorry sight, and all it had taken was that one imperfection.

Perhaps it was a sight as sorry as herself right now, she wondered.

“So?” Suwako asked curtly. “What's your business with me, huh?” She was still casual more than anything else, though.

“This sword, right here,” Tired, Miko sounded, for she was. “Was my body in life.”

Suwako nodded, not particularly impressed. “I see.”

“And, for some reason, when my sword had a sliver chapped from it, my body too-”

 _“Wait,”_ Suwako held her hand up. “Wait. Was your sword chipped, or your body?”

“Ah,” Miko herself hadn't realized. She gestured to the sword. “My body. My body was chipped, and then, my current vessel, took damage too.”

Suwako narrowed her eyes, thinking. “I see.” She repeated. She sounded genuinely intrigued now, and that made Miko feel reassured. “Can I see your wound?” Even as she knew she would have to undress.

She was a tad uncomfortable, but, it was a small price to pay. “Certainly.”

Miko was wearing more clothes now than she had the time she met with Seiga. This dress too, though, opened in the front. When she had gotten dressed hastily the other day, she hadn't thought much of it. The scene repeated itself, as Miko saw Suwako's reaction was quite similar to Seiga's. Squinting, and with a confounded look on her face, Suwako leaned in to get a closer look.

Miko was just to tell her not to touch it, but it was too late. Suwako squeezed Miko's side in her hand. “I've never really seen anything like this before.” She said, her voice falling into baffled amusement. “It... it really doesn't look anything like organic material, does it?”

“It does appear that way, yes.” Miko hadn't given it much thought. It had been rather obvious to herself. It was after all, not organic material.

“Makes me wonder,” Suwako looked up at Miko, “What'cha look like inside?” Suwako drew some distance between them, throwing herself back. “I mean like,” She gestured to Miko's bare front, as Miko had yet not quite gotten to covering herself back up. “Is it all like that?”

“Well, no, it cannot be.” Miko reasoned.

“Right? I mean, you eat and stuff, right?” Suwako indeed, appeared baffled.

“Yes,” Miko responded. “Well, I do. I don't usually need to, though.”

“Huh.” Suwako appeared a bit lost in thought.

“I dunno much about this whole hermitry business,” She continued, getting back to her seat. “But it might be that, when separated from your body, or, your current vessel, the materials simply turned back to soil.”

Miko, too, had reasoned along those lines. “You think?”

“What was it like just after the incident?” Suwako asked.

“It, well, I didn't check, to be honest with you.” Miko admitted. She hadn't had any opportunity to do so. “I felt tired, so I went home in a hurry. After that I went to sleep. When I woke up, it was like this.”

“So, we can't confirm either way, huh,” Suwako shrugged. “Well, then, there's no way to know.”

“Um,” Miko wanted to mention as little as she could, but having come all this way, she deiced to open up. “I also feel rather sickly as of late, and lacking in energy.”

“Yeah,” Suwako nodded, she had taken to glancing back down to the sword. “You do look pretty pale.”

“I- _I do?_ ” Miko blurted out without thinking.

“Yeah?” Suwako replied. “I haven't met you before, so I'm probably not the best to judge here but I thought you looked pretty miserable when I first saw you.”

“W-well, then I was, well,” Miko didn't know what to say. Suwako wasn't lying anyway, but it was an uncomfortable truth. For a split second, Miko thought back to Futo and Seiga, who hadn't treated her any different than normal. The implications weren't helping her current situation.

“So,” Suwako announced, “I guess that just means I'm gonna have to patch you back up, then?” She smiled, and it wasn't a bitter, nor a pointed smile this time.

“Yes,” Miko lowered her head just a bit, as the feeling of relief made her momentarily humble. “If you so please.”

“Like I said,” Suwako fumbled with something inside her sleeve. “I'm not good with this hermitry business, but, I can create a duplicate of pretty much any metal, so it should be fine.”

“Can you really?” An honest question, rather than a mocking one.

“I mean this case is a bit special, but, yeah,” Suwako nodded. “Probably.”

“It would be easier if we had the missing piece, I imagine.” Miko thought aloud. It had been on her mind for some time now, she wished she hadn't let the missing piece of the blade get out of her sight.

“Or maybe,” With Suwako's earlier reasoning in mind, Miko realized something new. “The piece of the sword would turn back to flesh?” It was a bit absurd, so Miko let a small laugh escape her.

“Ah, no.” Suwako shook her head. “It hasn't.”

“It... hasn't?” Miko was caught off guard.

“It hasn't.” Suwako repeated, with certainty. Removing it from her sleeve, she held up her hand, and between her thumb and index finger, she displayed a small, sharp sliver. “See?”

In the dully lit room, it appeared silver, but when a lantern's flame flickered with a burst of intensity, it shone like gold.

 _“Wh-”_ Like her heart had leapt on her chest, Miko leapt from her seat. “Where did you find that?!”

Suwako was just as quick to withdraw her hand. “Oh, this?” She smiled. “I found it when I was playing outside.”

“You... You weren't at the Hakurei shrine, were you?” At least, Miko had no recollection of seeing any of the mountain gods there. “How did you find it?”

“I just told you. I found it outside, I found it here on the mountain.” Suwako reaffirmed.

Miko tried to settled back down. “H- How? How is that possible?”

Suwako shrugged. “I dunno. I just know I saw it, gleaming at the bottom of the river.” She placed the sliver down on the cloth, and with a glance, one could see it fit perfectly into the missing fragment of the blade.

“It was pretty, so I picked it up,” Suwako continued her retelling, “And, when I held it, I realized, that this was not metal at all, despite how it looked.”

Miko, too, had her eyes cast on the blade between them. She had always been aware of its true identity, but never before had it felt quite this overbearing to look at her own corpse.

“It looked like metal, it felt like metal, and it acted like metal...” Suwako's eyes gleamed a bit, then. “But it was, in fact, human flesh and blood. How could I not hold onto something so bizarre?”

Understanding Suwako's line of thought didn't mean she had to sympathize with it, Miko decided.

“Anyway, this makes things a lot easier,” Suwako clapped her hands together. “This way I know the properties of the piece I'm supposed to replicate.”

Miko was listening, but the fact that Suwako had somehow gotten her hands on the piece still occupied her mind, distracting her. Miko then, thought of Yakumo Yukari once more.

“When you found the piece,” Suwako glanced up as Miko suddenly reversed back to the previous topic. “Were you alone?”

“Yeah,” Suwako frowned just a bit. “I would have mentioned something like that the first time, don't you think?”

“Yes, but,” Miko tried to not get agitated. She could hear in Suwako's defensive tone, that she was hiding something. “I mean, did you suspect there was anyone nearby?”

“Well, I...” Suwako crossed her arms, and feinted thinking back to the moment she found the sliver. “I didn't think so, no.”

To Miko, the lie was obvious, and Suwako wasn't even trying particularly hard to hide it, either.

With that, Miko was content. Her suspicions had been right.

“I see then. I'm sorry for doubting you.” Miko nodded.

“Right.” Suwako's frown was gone already. “Actually, it's been awhile since someone asked me to do something like this for them.” She seemed just a little excited. “Now that I think about it, the last time was probably when I helped the Buddhists, with that thing.” Suwako laughed a bit.

Miko wanted to inquire, she really did, as Suwako was being intentionally vague, but she had waited long enough. She didn't want to have yet another unrelated conversation.

“Anyway,” Suwako got up, enclosing the fragment in her fist. Passing Miko, she said: “I gotta get the materials, so, yeah,”

“Oh, of course.” Miko got up as well, and decided to follow as Suwako made it to the door. She was a bit curious as to how this would work. Outside, it was already sundown.

“Um, are you going to grab the materials from here?” Miko asked carefully as Suwako leaned her body out the door.

“Yeah? If that's fine with you?” Suwako asked, and when she saw Miko's bothered face in response, she barely contain her laughter.

“This is a blessed mountain top, with a long history, and the highest peak on the Japanese isles. It's even older than me.” Suwako bragged. “If that doesn't suit you, then I'm afraid I can't really do better.”

Miko was less concerned about the mountain, and more so about this specific spot being the Moriya Shrine backyard. Regardless, she actually hadn't yet considered the points Suwako brought up, so she was a tad more accepting of the circumstances now.

“Alright.” She decided to go along with it. “If you insist.”

Suwako grinned, and headed out down to the ground. Miko stayed a safe distance behind her.

“Just don't, um,” Yet another possibility arose to Miko.

“What?” Suwako looked up at her, still more amused than bothered.

“Don't put anything weird in there, would you?” Miko couldn't quite hide the worry in her voice, and Suwako let her laughter slip.

“Now, now,” Suwako teased, “Why in the world would I do that?”

“I don't know.” Miko admitted honestly. Suwako was the toughest person Miko had had to deal with in a long time, even if it was arguably all due to circumstance. Miko could see now, perhaps Yakumo Yukari had held her in mind all along, this Moriya Suwako who was as ancient as she was troublesome.

“But, please, just put what's needed in there and nothing else.” Miko tried to be humble, and get some sympathy. “I have seen enough troubles, don't you think?”

“I get it, I get it,” Suwako cracked her neck. “Just what's needed." She sounded honest, and Miko allowed herself to be relieved.

“I just gotta concentrate for a few secs now, so, pipe down, okay?” Suwako turned her back, sitting down on the ground.

“Certainly.” Miko, curious, now also a tad nervous. She had witnessed many a divine interventions in her days, but nothing related to something so personal. Would the mountain god really be able to create a proper substitute that could mend her vessel?

Miko sidestepped around to get a look at what Suwako was doing. She appeared to just be sitting still, staring into the earth. Managing to be almost completely silent, Miko lined up along her.

A swift movement, Suwako used her open palm to strike the ground with great force. Startled, Miko was certain she felt the earth's crust shake, even if only with one instantaneous wave of vibrations.

Pulling her hand up just as quickly, something small sprung from the earth with a sharp whistle, and Miko flinched at the sound. Suwako caught it as if it was nothing.

Miko edged closer, enthralled by what had just happened.

That small something that she had caught in her hand, Suwako eyed it closely and blew it off, spraying a bit of dust. _“Eh,”_ Suwako said, sounding uncertain. “I'm pretty sure this will do.”

Suwako got up casually, and Miko got close enough to get a proper look. Seeing her intrigued expression, Suwako held out both her hands for her.

Miko honestly couldn't tell which was which. “Remarkable.” She noted. “Really.” She was honestly quite impressed.

“So, you think it's gonna be fine?” Suwako asked, just a little bit smug.

“I am not really an expert on this matter,” Miko admitted. “But as far as I can tell, it appears so, yes.”

“Great!” Suwako didn't look relived, but rather, she seemed to have unwound a bit.

Miko, too, felt more relaxed now that finally, she could see the light at end of the tunnel.

Hopefully, her trip to find her cure would end soon.

       

       

      

      Opening the closet compartment, Suwako sloppily threw out a futon on the floor. “Here,” She gestured in the same way. “You can use that.”

On the floor Miko sat, spreading it out and straightening it. “I'll go into sleep here,” She went over what they had covered again, “And you will mend my vessel in the meantime?”

“Yeah, basically.” Suwako kept rummaging through the closet. A pillow fell on the floor, and Miko took it for herself. “That's how you originally did it, right?”

“Well, it was a bit more complex than that...” An understatement, but Miko didn't feel like going into details unless she absolutely had to.

“Won't it be bad to switch back between your body and vessel though?” Suwako thought aloud. “We'll need something temporary for you to use.”

“Yes...” Miko put the pillow on top of the futon. She wished she had prepared something, but since she hadn't known exactly what this process would entail, she hadn't. Miko remembered again how she had spoken to Seiga just a few days ago. _She could have said something,_ Miko thought, annoyed.

“Do you have something I could borrow?” Miko really didn't want to ask this of them, as well.

“A pajamas-” Suwako muttered.

“Huh?” Miko looked up. “What matter an artifact, is a pajamas?”

“Ah, no,” Suwako tore an article of clothing out from the closet. “A pajamas, to wear when you sleep. What size are you?”

Miko looked at the cloth Suwako held. It was an incredibly plain shirt, modern in style. “... I'm not sure, actually.” Miko had her clothes made after measurements, but she hadn't ever needed to memorize them.

Suwako looked at Miko, and then back into the closet. “I guess mine is too small. But Kanako's would be too big...”

“I think bigger is better, in that case?” Miko shared her opinion, but Suwako didn't look like she was listening too closely.

“I guess Sanae's would be best, if there's any...” Finally, Suwako found what she was looking for. “Aha, here's some. I think.”

This time, she threw down two miss-matched garments. A short-sleeved shirt with a washed-out image on the front, and a pair of pants covered in equally muted multicolored dots. _How incredibly garish,_ Miko thought.

“Wear these, it'll be easier for me to operate then, and check on you afterwards and stuff.” Suwako said lazily. “I hope you don't mind borrowing Sanae's stuff.”

“I don't mind,” Miko held up the shirt, thinking that whatever divine properties it had, she sure couldn't feel it. But if Suwako said she'd wear it then, well, no matter complaining. She hadn't brought along any sleepwear of her own, anyway, and as it seemed now she would indeed be forced to spend the night here. “I'll wear them.”

“As for the temporary vessel, I'll prepare something.” Suwako stuffed the things that had fallen out of the closet back in, making a mess.

“Well, I'm not sure exactly what would be appropriate.” Miko thought back to when she had first moved her soul from her mortal flesh. “I'm afraid I can't do over the original ritual with what I have on hand.”

“Nah, I got just the thing.” Suwako said, confident. “We'll be doing it our way, though.” She grinned again. She appeared very happy to introduce Miko to the Moriya shrine's customs.

“Oh,” Miko wondered if she should get worried. “Well, then.”

“I'll let you get changed,” Suwako walked towards the door leading to the hallway, “In the meantime, I'll prepare. Oh, I'll have to get Sanae, too.”

She left, and Miko listened to her walk across the hallway and into the next room. _Right,_ she thought. _Sanae._

Today had been nothing but a chain of reminders of the prowess and competence of others, it seemed. Miko was being educated, it seemed.

Miko decided that this time, she would try not to listen to whatever Suwako and Sanae would talk of when they thought she couldn't hear them. The clothes she was meant to put on served enough an obstacle right now, anyhow.

The pants were easy, and although the light cloth was a bit ticklish on her skin they were very comfortable. A little big, but the stretchy waist-line still stuck to her pretty well, even if the legs were too long. Luckily, she wouldn't have to do any walking in them. The shirt was harder. Miko ended up sitting stuck with her hands above her head for longer than she wanted. Once in place though, she thought it felt strange to wear something so thin but wholesome that didn't open in the front or back. Yet, it was less constricting than she had imagined.

When Suwako made it back with Sanae, now wearing the shrine maiden uniform, her first words were: “Wait, is she wearing my clothes?”

Her usual politeness had slipped just a bit then, too, in her surprise.

“Oh yeah,” Suwako was quick to settle on the floor. “I thought I should let her borrow something easy to wear for this.”

“Well, maybe you could have asked me first?” Sanae complained. “I really like that t-shirt, so...”

“It's fine, it's fine.” Suwako didn't bother with anything more than that. Sanae sighed as she sat down, holding her gohei in her lap.

Sitting on the futon, Miko crossed her legs. “Now, how do you plan to do this?”

Sanae's eyes lit up, her moodiness blown away. “Thank you for asking!” She nodded her head. “Tonight, I have received the honors of channeling the spirit of our dear guest, her royal highness Shoutoku Taishi!”

Things were falling into place quickly. Miko smiled at Sanae's enthusiasm. “Yes, I'll be relying on you tonight.”

“Our Sanae is still quite young, but she is talented.” Miko could hear Suwako was more than a little proud.

“I hope to be able to be of your assistance!” Sanae bowed, lowering her head, and raising it hastily.

“You go on and explain now, Sanae.” Suwako gestured to her, and Miko heard her imply she felt she had already done enough work herself.

“Absolutely!” On the floor in front of her, Sanae brought forward a slender white ceramic vase. Hanging from it's neck were shide, neat despite their small size.

“Is this going to be the temporary vessel?” Miko was quick to ask.

“Ah, no,” Sanae looked to Suwako, who shuffled to get something out of her sleeve.

“This is.” Suwako slid a branch into the vase. Unmistakable evergreen leaves, that shifted from green to red. The holy sakaki, one of the more commonly used vessels for gods in Shinto summoning rituals. In the vase, and with the shide, Miko thought it was an almost caricature-like image of a Shinto ceremony.

“I see.” Miko approved regardless: It wasn't a bad choice by them. Considering the situation, something generic rather than specialized would be best.

“Now, I actually considered being the vessel myself,” Sanae admitted, “But I've never done something like taking on an entire spirit before, so I thought this would probably be better.”

“...Right.” Miko thought that if something were to go wrong, Sanae being the vessel would undoubtedly add to the number of positively awkward problems.

“It would have been neat though,” Sanae continued, “If you could have seen Lady Suwako work and stuff in real time, via me!” Amused by this scenario, Sanae laughed.

“Yeah but it's really not something worth considering.” Suwako sounded comparatively serious, and Miko could understand why.

“Yes, yes, sorry,” Sanae recovered quickly. “Now,” She said again, getting back on track. “You're in luck, actually. I honestly have no idea if it would be possible to do this with a regular spirit, but since you are revered as a god in Shinto by some, we should be able to make this work!”

Miko had thought about that too, in a passing. Kanako had mentioned it to her one year ago. She never thought that fact would be useful to her, at least not like this. Miko wasn't sure if she would call it “luck” though.

“Additionally, I would normally struggle to summon a god of that kind of vague nature," Sanae's enthusiasms just kept piling up. “However, seeing as I know quite a lot about you from school and stuff, even though history was never my best subject, and since I even have some personal connections to you, it should be fine!”

“You're even wearing my clothes right now, so establishing a mental image shouldn't be hard, either!” Sanae babbled.

“I see.” Miko would have been getting impatient, but at this point she was mostly relived to hear Sanae had thought this through, in her own way. Miko was honestly less knowledgeable about Shinto rituals than she was about Buddhist ones, but this was all within perfectly reasonable bounds.

“However, I suspect this will still take longer for me to do compared to the channeling and summons I'm used to doing, so please have some patience with me.” Sanae lowered her head once more.

“She'll be entering sleep, or trance, via meditation.” Suwako gestured to Miko. “It's to make things easier, so she won't be able to tell, anyway, at least not 'til stuff starts happening.”

“After I sleep, what will happen?” Miko cared to know how they would deal with things once she lost consciousness.

“After Sanae finishes calling you, which may take awhile,” Suwako held up the iron fragment she had created, “I'll start working to mend your vessel, with the substitute I made. That shouldn't take long, though.”

When Miko's soul would leave her vessel to reside in the branch, the vessel should return to its original form of the sword. Then, fixing it should be a straight-forward matter of working the iron. After that, when ending the channeling, the soul would return to the vessel, along with the vessel returning to the shape of Miko's form.

In the meantime, Miko's original body laid back in its wrapping, next to the bedding, unchanged. The fragment had been stuck back in place, still broken. As the vessel had broken along with it however, their hopes were that it too, should mend itself along with the vessel.

“Do you know how long it takes before the vessel turns back?” Sanae asked.

“I'm not sure.” Miko hadn't been conscious the first time, either. “But it should not be very long.” At the very least, she was confident in that.

“Eh,” Suwako shrugged. “Worst case we'll be pulling an all-nighter.”

Miko felt a sting of worry. This may just turn out to be quite the handful, after all. She'd be indebted to them for sure.

“Alright.” It wasn't like she had much choice at this point. To be honest, she was a bit impressed by how crafty Suwako had turned out to be.

“If it's fine with the two of you,” Miko had one last wish, however. “I'd like to be alone as I meditate, and go to sleep.”

Sanae was quick to comply. “But of course!” She was quick to get up, as well.

“Sure,” Suwako scratched her head. “Don't take too much time, though.”

“Oh I can reassure you it won't be long.” Miko insisted. “Give me about ten minutes.”

At this point, she just wanted to be alone for a bit, too, Miko thought as the two of them left.

Miko eyed the branch that they had left behind, sitting now a bit awkwardly on the floor in the middle of the room. The arrangement was simple, quite humble. Perhaps she should be thankful towards toward the branch, but still, she felt not at all eager to possess it.

Laying down under the covers, she thought they were cold, rather than cool. The futon carried many unfamiliar smells, and she was glad smell to her was a secondary sensory input, or she would have been overwhelmed.

She cleansed her thoughts, going over everything that had happened since the last time she slept.

For about a minute, she allowed herself to listen to the outdoors.

Then, before shutting it all out completely, Miko realized she had been too preoccupied the last few nights to notice that all the singing insects had already gone quiet.

       

       

      

       

       

      


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I was playing video games and goofing off all summer, this saw no progress. I'm really disappointed in myself for that.

       

#  Final Part 

       

       

      

      It was almost dawn and the sun's path in the east was brightening up. Again on the veranda, with a simple breakfast already finished, Tojiko lit a pipe to smoke, purely by habit.

“Reading that book though,” Tojiko had no problem retracing to this subject. “The one with the symposium. It sure brings back a lot of memories, ya know?” Strange, for she sounded bitter.

In turn, Futo was intrigued.

“Religion? Like languages, used to express the same things? A way to train the mind?” Tojiko laughed. “Really makes you wanna puke.”

Futo had nothing to intervene with at this time. While the words Tojiko had just mocked resonated with her in theory, Futo wasn't so naive she'd take them out of their context. There was nothing to disagree about.

“Especially coming from them, it's really ridiculous. Leaders are never unbiased. They always have things to gain.” Tojiko relaxed onto the railing. Futo watched her, silent.

“You know, speaking of the past?” Tojiko turned and met Futo's eyes. “The feud between our families is going down in history as a religious feud.”

“Well, it ain't completely incorrect.” Futo responded, somewhat cautiously.

“It's all just a front.” Tojiko argued. “It was then, and it is now. I've yet to see any reason to believe otherwise.” Tojiko had seen others change amidst the politics of the past, and she had seen herself change as well. Futo knew. She had been there.

“At the very least, the stakes aren't quite as high this time around.” Futo did not miss the violence, although she feared Tojiko did.

“Tell me about it,” Tojiko responded, just a bit mockingly. "Did you know?" Her question was rhetoric. Futo didn't appreciate the tone.

Tojiko noticed, and didn't hold Futo's concern hostage for long: “After you two went down under, my clan killed all her highness' living relatives. The moment they lost my guidance, they mindlessly slayed every royal heir in sight.”

Tojiko had been reading a lot of books.

Futo was a bit appalled. “I... I had no idea,” Then, she thought of Tojiko's family, and admitted; “Although, it is not too unfathomable.”

“Right?” Tojiko urged. “After all I did for them. My entire life, all I did was protect their interests. They reward me by calling me a traitor, backstabbing me and sticking me in a hole for fourteen hundred years. And if that wasn't enough, all we had ever amounted too was thrown away as well.”

It was Futo's turn to stare onto the skyline.

“Unless,” Tojiko sighed. “The Hieda's reasoning is all true, and it was you who killed me?”

Tojiko had hardly been serious in her accusation, but it was a matter different for Futo. “I... I would swear a thousand times over on my very life.” She had become alarmed, yet her humility was natural.

“Of course you would.” Tojiko let it go. “I do trust you after all.”

“Was... Was it this matter which you wanted to discuss?” Futo asked, deliberate, careful. Just like the days before, this morning she had been asked to come here.

“No, no it's not, really.” Tojiko was already regretful. The two of them were easily worn discussing the past. Yet, it was a hard-to-avoid topic. Their history in Gensoukyou short, everything but the immediate was the past.

“What I wanted to say was that,” Tojiko gathered her words. “You seem to be getting pretty wound up over all this.”

Baffled to the point of agitation, Futo went on the offense- Somewhat. _“How can I not be?”_

Tojiko fiddled with her pipe, rolling it between her fingers, “Nothing's decided yet. The future is still uncertain. We had no idea we'd end up like this, and similarly, there's no saying what will happen, in a decade, or a century.”

“Her highness is driven by the same forces, ideas, since she was born.” Futo held confidence in her words. Thus, her agitation. “With Gensoukyou's existence still, that remains unaltered.”

“Gensoukyou's existence in itself obviously won't change anything! You know that's not what I'm getting at.” Tojiko countered with irritation. “I know this is all hard for you... For numerous reasons.”

Aware of what she meant, Futo lost her edge.

“I trust you, so...” Tojiko hesitated. She wasn't very good at this. “Maybe you should trust me as well? My judgment that is.” Fatigued, she kept it simple. “You ain't losing anymore sleep over this now, you hear?”

The servitude to her royal highness was all they had ever known. Their thoughts, their feelings, their worries, their very identities; they were all built upon it. Tojiko prided herself in being the one out of the two of them who, perhaps, had it better. At heart, however, she knew she was no different from Futo. Tojiko too, worried. She had a hard time envisioning any sort of life outside the boundaries of the rules set by her upbringing. No matter how much she wished for it, it would for many reasons take long to build any sort of independent identity here in Gensoukyou.

It was not even a matter of livelihood. It was a matter of perspective.

Knowing it was hard for herself, she thought it must be even tougher for Futo. Truth was, Futo had barely even started think outside those boundaries. One day, however, depending on her highness' choices, that may have to change.

The sun rose, and Tojiko thought about all the things that had happened in her life, and death, so far.

“Things ought to start changing, at some point.” She muttered.

Futo appeared to be able to follow her line of thought. “I... I do trust you, Tojiko.” She smiled meagerly. “Here in Gensoukyou, time flows rapidly, compared to in the days of old. After two years, I have hardly had time to adapt, and there are yet numerous commodities to me unfamiliar. Additionally, new elements are introduced constantly. To me, Gensoukyou in itself appears ever-changing.”

Futo seemed to have calmed down somewhat. Noticing, Tojiko was reassured. Although Futo was in many ways vulnerable in her foundation, Tojiko had never considered her delicate- Or unresourceful.

“Conceivably,” The sunlight poured onto the veranda. “Us changing in the same manner is inevitable, with time.” 

“Yeah because frankly, I sure as hell hope things won't stay unchanging for another fourteen hundred years.” Tojiko laughed. As bitter as her own statement might has been, her laugh was comparatively light and clear.

Futo brightened up, however gingerly. “You ought to go out more.” She said, putting concern before coercion.

Tojiko scoffed through her smile. “Oh, like last time?” She didn't enjoy getting harassed, even if she liked getting into fights.

“Next time, we should pick a more mellow assemblage of folk.” Futo reasoned. “The Shrine's banquets may still be too much for newcomers like us.” Futo herself had been not quite fully comfortable, but she needed not say. The more she thought about it now, the more uncertain she became. How had the two of them even ended up at that banquet? Futo didn't seem to have a clear memory of their motivation, but it was strange. Tojiko normally declined any invitations to outings.

Strange circumstances or not, it was quite typical indeed what had happened in the end.

“Yeah...” Tojiko agreed. “Too much of a... _culture shock?_ Is that what they called it?”

“Honestly, I thought you, at least, would enjoy a rowdy celebration such as that one.” Futo hesitated to bring it up, but she had been thinking it for too long now to hold it in.

“Well, yeah... Technically I might, but...” The banquets of the royal court in the seventh century hadn't been quite as haphazard, even if they had been wild. “As for what I'm used to... Drunken fights, sure. A few assassinations, why not?” Futo laughed at her comment.

“I've never been in a bar fight with _an oni,_ though.” Tojiko finished, stressed as the memory resurfaced. Sometimes, all one needs is a single moment of thoughtlessness to bring disaster upon oneself.

“If memory serves me right, you were responsible for some of those assassinations yourself, correct?” It was easy to forget, but Futo too was not above making a crude joke once in a while.

“Oh, it was never that fancy. Not with me.” Tojiko laughed some herself.

Slowly, the sun rose higher.

 

 

 

 

      The coursing waterfall roared as it did all year around, never freezing, even in the cold of winter.

The water that broke the river's surface sprayed minuscule droplets everywhere, moistening the air. By the bottom of the fall, the moisture laid so thick in the air, it appeared like mist.

Upon arriving, Kasen cautiously watched the area. No one appeared to be here, but she knew better.

“Hey,” She called out, in the direction of the waterfall. “You're here, right?” With the waterfall booming, she wasn't sure how loud she should talk.

No response, just the voluminous ambiance. It would be easy to give up an leave.

"Hey," She called louder this time. "Come on!"

Kasen was not enjoying this.

“Just come on out. You're being creepy, anyway.”

 _“...Oh?”_ Pointed, was the response. Someone had been insulted.

“I'm the one being creepy now? That's funny.” Empty laughter.

The voice seemed to lie in the shower of sprinkling water drops, but it did not rush along the river, unlike the water.

“Yeah,” Kasen, now irritated, retorted, “Because you can never just approach me like a normal person!” With an easy flick, the bandage she had in place of her left arm stretched the distance and deformed, cutting through the falling water like a knife.

Spraying from the water source, like a cloud of dust, glittering, Suika separated herself from the water droplets. She laughed again, less hollowly, more pleasantly.

“I guess I can't hide from you, nope!” It wasn't something that needed to be said.

“You didn't come here to play hide and seek with me, did you?” Kasen wasn't as pleased. She felt flustered, even.

“Hmm...” Suika fluttered, disembodied, along the riverbank. “I'd rather _play tag_ , you know? Like we used to?” A bad joke, and Kasen's expression grew all the stiffer.

“How about you're it?” Suika suggested, “And then, I catch you!”

“It's the other way around, isn't it?” Knowing Suika was purposely trying to grind her gears wasn't what Kasen was the most bothered by. It was knowing Suika had good reason to want to do just that.

“Oh, it is?” The humor in her voice hollowed out. “It seems all I do is chase after you, though.”

Kasen didn't want to groan or sigh. “I need to talk to you.”

“Really now?” Suika floated up, away, towards the source of the waterfall. _“Really?”_ She repeated, snickering.

“Yes!” Kasen shouted after her, quick to follow. She knew the response that would come.

“Interesting coincidence, don't you think?”

Kasen had nothing to say to that one. She didn't care right now, either. “You know Yakumo Yukari, don't you?”

“Sure.” Suika didn't sound very interested. “What of it?” She ascended further. Reaching the top, she finally materialized, and Kasen threw her head back to watch Suika's back as she settled on the rocks.

Kasen needed not ready herself before she scaled the wall in a single, swift jump. Suika turned to look at her lazily.

“After all this time...” She finally let the aggravation seep into her voice. “And you approach me, asking about, what, exactly?”

Kasen wouldn't let her change the subject. “It's really important.” She insisted.

“Really?” Suika insisted back. Sharply, she adverted her gaze. Kasen knew that face. She was sulking.

Still, she hadn't left yet. Kasen thought that was a good enough sign Suika was, in fact, intent on hearing her out. Suika would never bear with anything against her will.

“Are you two close?” Kasen asked, trying not to sound too desperate.

“Sorta. I guess.” Suika responded quickly, before thinking. Then, as Kasen waited for a more clear answer, she added, “She's a friend of mine, yeah.”

“Could you talk to her for me?” The anxiousness in Kasen's voice was clear, and Suika decided she had made her point, and loosened up.

“... She's on to you, huh?” Suika deduced.

“Yeah...” Kasen nodded. “Definitely.”

Suika shrugged. “I doubt she'd do anything.” Judging by Kasen's demeanor, Suika guessed Yukari had already approached her. She was right.

“Still, I don't,” Kasen hesitated for a bit. “I don't want anything to happen.”

“Well?” Suika grew curious. “Are you planning anything?”

Kasen shuddered. _“Um,”_

Suika laughed at her reaction.

“I am, sorta?” Lying was unthinkable as it was, but to Suika, it was even more so. “Nothing's really decided yet, though.”

“I see.” Suika wasn't surprised. “You don't have to tell me, not now, at least.” She had a pretty good idea what it was anyway, especially seeing how worried Kasen seemed to be all about it.

Suika was indeed hearing her out. Kasen allowed herself some peace of mind. “Thanks,” She settled on the rocks too.

“What do you want me to tell her anyway?” Suika asked.

“I don't know... To lay off me?” Kasen hadn't thought it through quite that far yet. “I really don't want any trouble.”

“Trouble?” It took Suika a second, then, she laughed. “Oh? Wait, you mean like what happened to _her?”_

Kasen didn't really see what was so funny. “Yeah...” She nodded slowly.

Kasen hadn't been too worried about how Yukari had approached her, at least not before she realized the fate that had befallen Toyosatomimi no Miko. Kasen had read about it in the newspapers, and gathered what she could from Reimu and the others. Being versed in the arts of hermitry, what exactly that had transpired had, in time, become clear to her.

Setting up a shikaisen like Miko against a sword that slays those who are already dead; Yakumo Yukari had no problem doing such things, apparently.

And for what? For spilling an uncomfortable truth?

Kasen had read the book, too.

“Well,” Suika sounded amused. “It's not the first time. There was that celestial, too.”

Kasen looked up, her chain of thought broken. “A celestial?”

“Yeah.” Suika remembered it fondly. “Yukari was really angry that time. It was funny, really.”

“What had she done?” Kasen inquired, not sure is she should be alarmed.

“She did what that hermit did,” Suika paused, “And what you're planning on doing, too.”

“Yeah, I get it, but-”

“Mess with the shrine,” Suika smiled, “And Yukari's gonna mess with you. That's how it goes.”

Kasen stared at the ground.

She wasn't scared of Yukari herself, as much as she was of the consequences of being antagonized by her. Suika knew.

“Hey,” Suika leaned onto Kasen. “I'll help you, okay?”

Kasen hadn't really dared to be so optimistic. “Really?” She asked, hesitant, humored.

“Well normally, I might have said no, but,” Suika shrugged. “It's you. Plus, the woman owes me a favor.”

Kasen remembered that too, now. “Right. You were part in all this too, right?”

“Not my proudest moment,” Suika admitted. “But yes. She said she'd compensate me, anyway, so I agreed.”

“I hadn't thought too much about that, to be honest,” Suika was amused now. “But now, I have something really good to ask for.” It would be an interesting request she thought, asking Yukari to lay off someone in exchange for doing in someone else.

Kasen laughed a bit awkwardly. “Would you really do that for me?”

“Oh,” Suika drew back, hands up in defense. “I'll do it. But everything comes with a price you know?”

Kasen really wished she could say she wasn't surprised. “...Of course.” She sighed. “What do you want?”

“This one might be a bit tough on you, I don't know.” Suika looked skeptical.

“I'll do my best, really.” Kasen offered meagerly.

Suika looked at her, silent. Kasen grew restless, even as Suika turned away.

“Could you, perhaps, _oh I don't know...”_ Her words leisure, her thoughtfulness was only a feint, and for Kasen it was easy to tell. Suika knew exactly what she wanted, and that by itself made Kasen stressed. Would it really be an impossible request? In that short moment, Kasen worried.

“-Maybe, not act like such a stranger?”

The tension gone as quickly as it had come, relief washed over Kasen. Yet, she felt guilty, and for more than one reason.

Lately, all she had been thinking of was herself.

“I... I can do that.” She offered.

“Really?” Suika sounded skeptical still. Kasen didn't hold it against her.

“Yeah,” She tried to insist, not looking at Suika. “I... I can do that, if you just give me a decent chance, or a decent opportunity, rather-”

“-Rather than what?” Suika retorted quickly, pointedly. “You know, knowing me, I have dealt with this matter with extreme delicacy, okay?”

It was true, Kasen knew. A smile weaseled it's way onto her face. “I'm sorry, I really am.”

“Exactly.” Suika agreed, mirroring that smile.

“Just don't... Come see me at the shrine anymore, okay?” Kasen tried.

Suika waved her hand disapprovingly. “I'll come see you wherever I want.”

Kasen hadn't expected anything less, not at this point. “Alright,” She gave in. “You can see me at the shrine. But you can come see me at other times too, okay?”

“It's a deal.”

The deal was done, and the two of them were both content. Kasen felt stupid for having worried, stupid for having been so selfish, but more than anything she felt stupid for that awkward smile on her face. She really felt like an idiot.

“You live around here, right?” Suika asked, “I went looking for you, but you were hiding, so I didn't feel particularly welcome.”

Suika had always been surprisingly sensible. “It shouldn't be too hard for someone like you to find my house,”

“Especially not if you lead the way, right?”

“... No, I guess not.”

Even as they were on their way, Kasen had one more thing on her mind, one more thing about her request.

“...What will you do if she says no?”

“Huh? You mean Yukari?”

“Yeah...”

“I don't know, I don't think she will.” 

Kasen herself wasn't so sure.

“Buuut...” Suika considered the possibility. “If it's between you and her, anyway, I'll pick you.” She shrugged. “Probably.”

“Probably?” Kasen was still smiling.

Suika nodded. “Probably.”

 

 

 

 

      From somewhere, she heard an unfamiliar sound. Buzzing, like bees or wasps, accompanied by snips of an almost metallic scratching. She awoke from her sleep, confused, disturbed by the alien sounds picked up by her sensitive ears. As Miko came to, staring at the ceiling, a raw strand of warm sunlight across her bedding, she remembered. That very moment, a crisp melodic sound broke through the static. A song, with strange instruments and singing in a strange language. It too was alien, but Miko didn't dislike it.

“Lady Kanako! Lady Kanako! I got it working again!” Steps thumped on the floor, quickly, excitedly. A sliding door was torn open, it scrambled.

“Oh, that's great!” A happy response. Sanae laughed. They were a few rooms away, and Miko could hear them clearly over the music.

“If we could have the kappa make a proper antenna, we could listen to the radio whenever we wanted.” Kanako spoke expectantly.

“Oh, _oh!_ Do you think we could watch TV as well? Or maybe not, since it's all digital now?”

Kanako laughed as well. “No, _because_ it is all digital now, we have a chance of getting analog television, right?”

Miko sat up in her bedding, hearing, rather than listening to, the chatter. She had slept in a side room in a simple futon, but this morning that wouldn't weight her down. She felt light, she felt refreshed, and she could hardly believe it but things appeared to be back to normal.

She sat her hand down to get up, and the golden color in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Even in her newly awakened state, she needed not to double-take. It was her sword, left just next to her. It was a strange feeling: such a priced possession, she never let anyone handle it, so she was not used to finding it where she could not remember placing it. It was the first time it had ever happened.

Leaning over it, she felt anxious. Miko herself didn't know, but as she slowly elevated the sword in her hands, with her guarded expression, she closely resembled Youmu from just a few days ago. Youmu too, had awoken with her sword by her side, having had it placed there by someone else- someone else who had mended it. Youmu too, had, like Miko now, bared the blade to inspect it.

Unlike Youmu however, Miko drew a sigh of relief, and when she clicked the scabbard back in place, it was with an expression of accomplishment.

There was nary a scratch nor a scar. Not in the place of the old wound, or anywhere else. Miko had used that strip of the sun's light to search for any unevenness that may cast a shadow, any bump or blemish. Again, there had been nothing, just like with the Roukanken, the damage dealt had been fixed without a trace.

Seeing the mountain god and seeking her help had actually worked.

Getting dressed, her room was cold, and with no heating. When she went into the dining room, Sanae was sitting there, bathing in the sunlight from the open sliding doors, humming along the tune that came from the box. 

She looked up from the newspaper. “Oh! Good morning!”

It was a windless morning, allowing the sun's heat to build up. Just by entering, Miko felt its radiation. 

“Hello,” Miko responded, finally in good spirits once more.

“We already ate, but I saved some leftovers for you!” Sanae got up.

“No, no, it's fine. I will be leaving right away,” Miko turned her down as casually as she could.

It seemed to fall on deaf ears, however. “I see! I'll make you a lunch box, then!” Sanae smiled, and disappeared into the hallway. Defeated, Miko sat at the veranda.

“Here you go!” Sanae handed her another glass container, this one also strangely light and flexible. “I tried to make it traditional, since it'd be easier for you to eat.” She hadn't stopped smiling.

“...Much obliged.” Miko wasn't sure was else to say. Surely this girl had no ill intention, even if she was a bit odd.

 

 

 

      The still weakened border of life and death brought with it its perks, such as the newspaper that came delivered once a week.

Yuyuko enjoyed reading them usually, and this week she had been keeping an extra eye out for the new issue. When it arrived, it had been at some point before sunrise, a bit earlier than usual. The tengu perhaps, had no intention to chat.

The article was there as expected, but the featured picture of Youmu was old. Tengu speeds were beyond impressive, but their cameras had their limits. Without doubt, Youmu had been too fast to make it into any decent action shots.

Newspapers were good to use as isolation for the plants throughout autumn and winter. However, Youmu's wheelbarrow stood still in the storage shed today, even as noon had come and gone. Yuyuko had kept close watch throughout the day.

Youmu was still in the dojo, and Yuyuko had more than enough time to read her newspaper.

 

 

 

 

      Reimu was sweeping the pathway to the shrine of the first few autumn leaves when Yukari came.

“How unusual to see you again so soon.” Reimu said before Yukari had a chance to greet her.

“I have my reasons.”

“Oh, really?” Reimu asked, not actually curious.

Approaching the shrine, Yukari spoke as she passed Reimu. “I just wanted to let you know you won't be bothered by her no more.”

Reimu detected her serious tone and Yukari had won her attention, although at a price.

 _“What?”_ She asked, twisting her head, annoyed at the vagueness.

“You know, she;” Yukari said, following up nonchalantly. “The big headed hermit. She won't be bothering you anymore, she won't.”

Reimu said nothing, frowning, thinking.

“She won't bother, or slander, you no more.” Yukari repeated, as if clarifying. There was no need.

It had already been well over a year ago, but Reimu remembered. Any loss on her part she would hardly ever forget. It was not a pleasant memory. “...What now?”

Yukari quickly changed the subject. “You got a really nice bottle of sake offered this morning didn't you?”

“Yeah, I did but-” Reimu discarded her question, shaking her head.

“Well, won't you invite me for a drink? It might just loosen my lips a bit.”

Reimu discarded her skepticism, too. “Alright, fine.”

As they walked to the shrine side by side Yukari said, “Oh, and remind me to thank Suika as well. I couldn't have done it without her, either. It was all thanks to her we could gather so many people... She even stuck her neck out to get our target alone.”

“Sure. As long as you tell me what happened.” 

 

 

 

 

      Having told Kanako and Sanae her regards and good-byes and such, and absolutely no more so than needed, Miko left the shrine. Walking down the path, down to the tree-line, into the dense forest, it quickly got cold and humid. The sun still shone starkly in contrast to the cold, and its light only barely filtered through some of the very first reddening leaves. Miko walked with steady strides, her spirits somewhat elevated, she was eager to put this affair behind her once and for all. She longed for the comfort of her own bed, food she could name, and the adoring eyes of her disciples. 

Then, she realized she was no longer alone; she heard a voice from the earth, calling out to her.

_“Be careful on your way! The trip across the Sanzu river will be a long one for someone such as you!”_

“... I have no plans to cross the Sanzu river.” That much should have been clear at this point.

“Oh, yeah. That's how it was.” A snicker. “I forgot.” Suwako lied.

“...Did you want anything?” No longer reliant on her assistance, Miko took a somewhat different tone.

“Hmm... Nope!” Suwako shook her head. “...Maybe just a goodbye, or a thank you.” 

“How about," Miko hesitated. “...I am a thousand times grateful?”

“How about,” Suwako mimicked. “I am forever in your debt...?” 

Miko laughed. “You do have humor, you really do.”

Suwako didn't seem to take it as anything but a compliment.

She smiled, but her prolonged wordless gaze made Miko unsettled. 

 

 

With a mildness barbed with overbearing potency, in such a way could a god of old make her voice ring.

“Why are you here, young lady?”

When she had finally spoken, Miko had just been planning to take her leave.

Perplexed, Miko sought the reason behind her words, and found little. Was this god perhaps, crazy? They had already covered this.

“Why, I'm just like you.” Impatient, Miko said the first thing that came to mind.

Suwako's smile blossomed into laughter. “I already told you didn't I? I'm not like you!” She sounded so delightful, it was striking, apprehending.

Miko thought back to their conversation from the night before, when they had breached this very topic.

“I don't really see it myself.” Unlike last time, Miko decided to take her dubious statements head on. “How are we different?”

Her question had been exactly what Suwako had been hoping to hear. She had come after her hoping to hear it. Suwako had already prepared her answer.

Her retort held a resolve as pristine as the early autumn air. Miko could hear it.

_“I was brought here by people who love me.”_

“Goodbye,” Smiling, Suwako waved. “You, the 34th ruler of the land of the rising sun.”

Effortlessly, she sunk into to earth and disappeared.

 

 

For a long, long moment, the stillness, the rustling of the leaves, the creaking of the branches, the distant singing of birds, the ambiance: it was deafening.

The spot before Miko on the stairs was glaringly empty, as if contradictory.

Eventually turning to leave, Miko walked further down the forest path. From the earth, she could swear; she heard a distant, echoing voice.

_“Don't forget your toll...!”_

It seemed to follow her all her way down the mountain. Ceaselessly, as she walked among the trees, past the weather-worn signs and land markings, across the river, through tengu territory and through the lands of the modest harvest goddess. Ceaselessly, she could hear it. From the earth below her feet it came, but she could swear the sound echoed not off the mountain walls or between the trees, but inside her very own skull.

_“...To the trip across the Sanzu river!”_

Having regained her health, what had Miko in turn brought upon herself?

To this day, Moriya Suwako remained a god of curses.

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

       

       

      

      Bedtime. Suwako came barging in, blanket over her shoulders.

“Couldn't you close the door?” Suwako complained. “It's already cold in here!”

She shut it promptly, grumbling.

“Oh yeah,” Lying on her side above the covers, Kanako responded absentmindedly, reading. “Sorry.”

“It's time to dust of the heater, too, you know?” Suwako settled by her, grabbing her pillow.

“Already?” Kanako sounded barely annoyed.

“It's better to do it early than late!” Was Suwako's comeback.

“I guess...” Kanako wasn't really listening.

 _“I want..._ I want central floor heating...” Suwako whined into her pillow. “I miss it.”

“I know you do.” Kanako turned a page. “I do too.”

They had this conversation every year.

Her cheek against her pillow, Suwako looked at Kanako's back. “What are you reading?”

“I'm going over some recent issues...” Kanako seemed to be just reading leisurely, Suwako thought. She got back up, and looked over her shoulder.

 _“...Disgraceful display at the shrine?”_ She read. _“The things the Roukanken cannot cut; Toyosatomimi no Miko's indisputable win-streak?”_

Suwako laughed out loud. “W- _what the hell is this?”_

Kanako snorted some herself. “Yeah. They sure write some snappy headlines, don't they?”

“So...” Suwako leaned onto Kanako. “This is what happened?” She pointed towards the article, a two page spread, but with mostly pictures. Incidentally, the only photos that seemed recent were some general shots of an indistinguishable crowd in front of the Hakurei shrine.

The picture of Youmu looked quite old, and Suwako was certain she had seen it before.

“In the end though, that win was just for show,” Suwako said, “I don't know what happened to that half-ghost, but I doubt she was any worse off.”

“Yeah...” Kanako agreed. She had skimmed the article before. “Just another reason why you shouldn't believe what's in the tabloids.” She sounded irritated.

“Hey, now,” Suwako patted Kanako's hair, in jest. She wore it up, even to bed. “Let that go, will you?”

“I'm not,” Kanako glanced up at her. “Really letting it bother me.”

Suwako wasn't convinced. “Why don't you put that down then?”

“I'm reading about the happenings of the feast!” Kanako sneered back, hitting the newspaper spread with the back of her hand.

“Yeah, okay,” Suwako played along.

“What do you think about her?” Kanako asked, after a short moment of silence.

“Hmm?”

“Now that you've met her too, what do you think about her?” Kanako clarified, that absentminded voice of hers back. Following Kanako's gaze, Suwako saw it land on Miko's picture in the paper. It was much more recent than Youmu's, a picture taken during the summer's incident with the menreiki.

Suwako rose her head and put it in her hands. “She's well...” She gave it some honest thought. “She's more or less what I expected, I guess?”

“Well?” Kanako looked up from the article.

Suwako rolled off, onto her side of the futon. “She's a brat.” She said simply.

Kanako laughed, turning on her back.

A bit amused, Suwako got curious. “What?” She asked, on the verge of laughing herself.

“Ah, it's just,” Kanako tried to put it into words. “It's just so satisfying to hear you say that.”

“Really?” Suwako asked, confused. “What were you expecting me to say?”

“I was expecting you to say pretty much that,” Kanako admitted. “But I wasn't entirely sure. Just glad to know I was right.”

“Well, she _is_ a brat.” Suwako said firmly, and Kanako laughed some more.

“What do you think of her yourself, anyway?” Suwako retorted back.

“Ah... Well, I sort of like her, actually.” Kanako said, shrugging. “She's pretty fun.”

“What?” Suwako wrinkled her nose in disgust. “You like her? How?”

“Like, I said, she's funny.” Kanako shifted to face Suwako. “She's pretty sharp-tongued, too. So I like talking to her.”

Suwako soured, grumbling. “She's just-” Frustrated, she didn't know what to say.

“-A brat?” Kanako filled in, pleased.

Suwako sat up. _“Yes!”_

“Even so, she can still be fun to talk to, right?” Kanako argued, relaxed. “I mean, you enjoyed talking to her too, right?”

“Not really.” Suwako muttered. It wasn't the full truth. “I guess I had some fun teasing her, but...”

“Exactly!” Kanako cut in. “She's fun.”

Suwako sighed, and laid back down, throwing her head back on her pillow. She turned her back. “I hate people like her.” She said, voice firm. “And you know that.”

“Yes,” Kanako said, “I know you do.”

Slinking in under the covers, Kanako settled in the futon. “Hey,” She said. “I don't mean anything by it, okay?” A bit of damage control.

Suwako contemplated holding on to her secret. “Actually, although I hate her-”

She decided against it.

“-I was kind enough to leave her with a bit of a parting gift.”

It was Kanako's turn now, to sit up. Turning to Suwako, she grabbed her arm tightly, turning her over with one firm tug.

“You what?” She asked sharply.

Seeing Kanako's reaction, Suwako couldn't hold back her laughter.

“Hey!” Kanako, irritated, shook her just a bit. “What did you do, huh?”

Suwako laughed harder, and Kanako gave up.

“I trust you it wasn't anything too serious.”

“Oh no, nothing too serious.” Suwako twirled strands of hair between her fingers. “If anything, I'm helping her. She'll come back soon you'll see, and she'll be thanking me. Properly this time, too.”

Kanako asked no further questions. Suwako was going to tell her, eventually.

She went back to reading her newspaper.

“It's weird though,” Suwako muttered.

“What is?” Kanako asked. She sounded irritated again, but Suwako knew it would pass. She never stayed angry for long.

“To finally meet her, since well,” Suwako struggled a bit to get under the covers herself. “We had our eyes on her since we first came here.”

“Oh you mean when she was still dormant?” Kanako remembered too now. “I thought about it too, last year actually.”

Byakuren's unsealing, and the construction of the temple; they had been around for both. Sanae who had investigated the former, Suwako who had helped with the latter. Then, Miko's awakening as a result, and Kanako who had met her, seemingly naturally, as a political rival. Things had gone, more or less, as they had wanted.

The Taoists and Buddhists and had spent the entire summer fighting each-other and solidifying the rift between them. Meanwhile, the Shrine atop the mountain had seen a quiet summer of successful local negotiations, with whatever complications flying under the press' radar with the ongoing duels.

“It's really funny she'd end up relying on us for help after all that.”

Kanako could only agree. “It really is.”

Side by side, the two of them locked eyes, and shared a snicker.

The old conflict between the two other religions had worked rather well in their favor, so far.

       

       

      

       

       

      

       

       

      

       

       

      

       

       

      

       

#  Epilogue 

       

       

      

      When Miko arrived, the Myouren Temple's main room of worship had already started filling up. Stalking alongside the walls, she for once felt out of place. She had never been invited to the temple before, and last time she had come here willingly, it had been to fight. The temple's regulars, who were all mostly gathered, seated, cast her glances that ranged between wary to intimidating.

When Byakuren soundlessly slid into the room, Miko for the first time ever felt some relief in seeing her face.

“Oh, what do we have here. I'm surprised you came, miss Miko.” She was as polite, and as suppressed as ever.

“Please, Hijiri. There's no need for the charades.” Miko retorted. They had no reason to pretend. There wouldn't be anyone documenting this, anyway.

“Indeed, if you say so, Taishi.” Her tone was unchanged, but her smile a bit more forced. “However, when I say I am glad to see you here, I am telling the truth.” Byakuren added, faintly condescending.

“Oh, really?” Miko smiled at the absurdities.

“Yes... For dear Kokoro really wanted you to come, didn't she?” Byakuren said solemnly. “In fact, these last few days, she kept insisting how important it was for you to come. She must really like you.” She stressed, almost sentimentally.

“Really? I find that hard to believe... I haven't seen her in quite some time now.” Miko remained stiff. She felt no obligation to get emotional with Byakuren.

“Oh, but you see... She has been very busy preparing. I have barely seen head nor hide of her myself.” Byakuren insisted, all while keeping her usual, amiable tone.

“If you say so. She must be working very hard.” Miko wasn't going to argue.

“Frankly, I have felt quite inadequate as of late. Theater has never been my forte... Nor has creative process or story telling ever been. I've had no way to support her in her struggles, I fear.” Byakuren's concerns appeared genuine, despite her unchanging smile.

“I don't think you should worry. She probably doesn't expect someone like you to help, anyway.” Miko spoke her mind as usual. “Kokoro is already rather independent after all.” She added.

“So, I take it she has not asked for your help either?” Byakuren inquired. Anyone else might have missed it, but she was unable to hide her relief from Miko.

Miko couldn't help but get irritated, and tried to not let Byakuren in on it. “Like I said, I haven't seen her at all recently.”

“Are you here on your own today?” Byakuren asked, glancing across the seats that remained open.

“Yes... Futo was supposed to come with me but I snuck out on my own. She'll come around in a while, probably.” Miko had wanted to try and drop in as discreetly as possible. 

“I understand.” Byakuren gestured towards the front. “I've saved some seats up in the fronts for us. Kokoro specifically wanted us to sit there. I still have some things to take care of, but please go sit down for now.” 

“Alright, I will.” Miko nodded. 

 

      With all the temple youkai behind her, and nothing but a handful of empty seats beside her, Miko's first thought upon sitting down was that maybe coming here alone had been a mistake.

The seats filled up relatively quickly after that. With nothing but strangers, the seats directly next to her were left open. Futo had snuck in and crept against the wall. Miko felt her presence without having to turn, and with her were three village girls, all excited temple regulars. At the very same moment, Byakuren showed through the altar's hind door. She settled silently at the very last remaining spot in the front row; right next to Miko. She smiled, and ignored Miko when she didn't return the gesture.

“It looks like it'll be starting soon.” Byakuren sounded genuinely excited. Most of her usual soft-spoken composure was washed off.

“Indeed it does...” Miko wasn't really interested in small-talk.

“I'm so proud of her. She has worked so hard, and done so much progress.” Byakuren got emotional again.

“I though you said you had no insight to her process?” Miko questioned. 

“Oh, oh no, not that.” Byakuren gestured behind her. “Hasn't quite a lot of people come? They're all her friends.” She kept on smiling.

Miko looked back. Byakuren was right; although crowded would have been an exaggeration, there were indeed rather many here. “Really, all of them?” Miko found herself impressed. It had only been so long.

“Well, some are perhaps more acquaintances than friends... But she gets along real well with all my girls.”

Byakuren's girls. Miko only assumed she meant the closest in the ring of temple youkai. “Well... She is at that very trusting and impressionable age, isn't she?” Miko took a jab.

“True. But all the same, I think it is natural she feels a connection with many of the youkai here.” Byakuren seemed proud.

“Why would you say that?” Miko made no attempt to hide how bothered that statement made her.

“They're all the same, aren't they?” Byakuren spoke earnestly.

“...They're hardly the same, Hijiri.” Miko bit back.

Byakuren decided to give Miko a chance to explain herself. “Why?”

“Kokoro was born from my creations, the creations of a saint.” Miko had already thought about this thoroughly. “She is a youkai, but a youkai of the arts. Although a tsukomogami, she would have been more suited to become a god than a youkai. The only reasons she lost her way was because she lacked guidance in my unforeseen absence, that, and because of that awful girl from old hell.”

Miko humphed. “Please don't compare her to the likes of your temple's youkai.”

Byakuren gave Miko a moment.

“It's all about circumstances.” Byakuren reasoned, remaining calm. “My girls... All of them, really, were badly compromised. They all could have lived good lives, as regular humans, or peacefully as youkai but because of circumstances beyond their control, they fell into bad lifestyles and were antagonized by their surroundings.” 

Byakuren regained her solemn, almost calculatingly calm voice. It was unsettling. “Kokoro is the same. You weren't by her side. She became a youkai. She lost her mask of hope. She preyed on the emotions of humans. She was antagonized. Luckily, she met you again, and me, and many others, and she was saved.”

“I think, the difference is, your girls would have fallen into the lifestyle regardless. They were no good from the beginning, as youkai in general are.” Miko retorted, quickly, steadfast.

“Oh? They've been perfectly fine since I saved them.” As did Byakuren, inflating the effects of her influence.

Miko straightened her back, starting to grow impatient. She had just about had enough. “Debatable.” She snarled.

The temple youkai shut the doors, and brought in the solid wood room dividers, running them up against the paper walls. They put out the lights, and as the room fell into darkness, the murmur died down.

Miko and Byakuren's conversation was over, and in turn, the noh started.

       

       

      

       

      “It's quite the interesting story, don't you think?”

It was half-time break. Kokoro had written quite the mastodont piece. Clashing with the classic style of the noh, refreshments were brought in. No alcohol of course, but rather, dried fruits, nuts, and some tea.

“Hm. Well, it's not quite what I expected.”

It was the story of a princess of a distant land. From her tower she saw everything that happened in the kingdom, and thus she knew all. As a result, she never walked outside of the castle's walls, living her life content despite her isolation.

“Kokoro said that this time, she wanted to tell a story about herself. In the past she told the story of Shinkirou, but it was all about the people she met and the things they taught her then, this summer.”

“I see... So this Princess is supposed to be her?” Miko hadn't given it much thought, at least not yet.

“Perhaps. But honestly, I see a lot of myself in the story, too.” Byakuren said wistfully.

One day, the Princess heard of her favorite bird relocating it's usual resting place on it's trip to warmer climates. To see the birds, she had to leave the comforts of her castle for the first time in her life.

Miko turned. “You do? How?”

After having left the castle, the princess saw the world for what it really was. She thought she had known everything, but in reality, she had known so little. She learned that what she had seen from her window was far from all she needed to truly know the world she lived in.

“Yes. I too, once lived, thinking I had all the answers. I too, lived thinking the world was simple, that I already knew the truth.” Byakuren seemed saddened and proud both remembering her old life.

Her feelings however, had little bearing to Miko. “You mean before you got into this whole saving youkai from humans lunacy?”

Byakuren paid her no mind. “When my brother died... I knew true despair, for the first time in my life, I knew true fear. I learned how lucky I had been, living in ignorance.”

“There's no shame in not knowing what there's no way for you to know.” Miko stated simply. She leaned back, and with a pick, she had some fruit. “It's for the better for the land if peasants remain ignorant, anyway.”

“You truly speak like a politician, Taishi.” Byakuren smiled.

“And you, like a senile old nun, Hijiri.” As did Miko.

Byakuren barely sighed. Her legs still folded under her neatly, despite the time that had passed, the rigid line of her back was stark in comparison to Miko's laid-back demeanor. She decided to have some snacks before Miko ate them all.

Byakuren though of how the story Kokoro was telling reminded her of the story of the Buddha, the prince who lived in ignorance of the evils of the world, and left to learn the truth of all existence. However, she decided not to tell Miko of that, for she most likely already knew. Instead, she choose a different approach.

“Don't you think the princess resembles you as well, Taishi?”

“Why would you say that?” Miko wasn't sure if she was being insulted, but she decided to play along for now.

“Aren't we all constantly maturing? One day thinking we know everything, and the next realizing our limits...” Byakuren mused. Miko thought the words sounded overbearingly worn.

“I can't say I ever feel like that.” Miko responded decidedly.

Byakuren smiled brightly. “Exactly. You are just like the princess in the tower, aren't you?”

Miko wasn't quick enough to respond.

Byakuren leered, her smile widening.

“You are up in your tower, looking out at everyone, locked up, all alone. Aren't you?”

The crowd hushed themselves as the doors closed, as the folding walls opened, and as the room fell into darkness and silence. As the play started once more, that line stuck itself in Miko's head.

The earth hadn't stopped whispering, and the words meshed well.

       

       

      

      

      

      “It was splendid!” Futo said over dinner, dinner in the big dining room, mimicking the royal courts of old, disciples bringing them their food. They would have sat in rows, but they were too few in number for that.

“Such a sight, I was deeply moved.” Futo held her hands out in gesture, sounding truly impressed.

“Thank you very much for your kind words.” Kokoro had barely nodded her head. She was happy, she honestly was, and even though she thought Futo was exaggerating, she also found her outspokenness refreshening.

“Hijiri said, she loved our play so much, she would love to hold similar events at the temple in the future.” Kokoro retold some of the aftermath from earlier that day. 

“Really? That's great.” Tojiko's bias towards the Buddhists aside, she had to admit this was good news.

“You ought to have come alongside us, Tojiko!” Futo had missed her there.

“Perhaps next time,” Looking a bit worn, and her voice more thoughtful than usual, Tojiko responded. Miko noticed.

“I hope you don't mind, I didn't really feel comfortable coming.” Tojiko smiled weakly at Kokoro, who was quick to reply.

“No problem, no problem!”

Kokoro and Tojiko, the two of them usually outspoken and to the point, they got along quite well.

“T'was a great story in particular.” Futo continued, enthusiastically. Tojiko was pleased to see that so far, she seemed to be trying to keep her promise. “Such impressive likenesses! Via substitutes, the reiterating of Kokoro losing her hope, and in turn finding so much more!”

“Perhaps, you could retell me it later?” Tojiko asked, partly making conversation, partly trying to ride on Futo's wave of positivism.

“Oh!” Futo bounced up. “Perhaps, I shall!”

“We were surprised you could follow the story so easily.” Kokoro added.

“No problem for someone such as me, even less so her highness!” Futo announced proudly. “In our era, it was a common kind of entertainment, after all.”

Miko had been silent for most of their meal. Tojiko watched her carefully. For once, she thought, she could stick her neck out.

She tried to empty her mind, and make her voice as light as possible. She, nor Futo, were never too sure if it actually helped, but they always tried.

“Did you enjoy the performance, your highness?”

Miko took a split second before she looked up. “Ah,” She sounded distracted.

“I did.” Her voice was stern, but her words sincere, although tense.

“It was very... Thought-provoking.” Miko concluded.

_I was brought here-_

Then, she remembered something else.

_-by people who love me._

Suddenly, it made sense.

Miko stood up sharply, with a clatter.

Dinner was coming to an end.

“I'm finished,” She announced.

The servers rushed to to assist her, but Miko had no mind for them. She waved them off, and left.

As for Miko's sudden reaction, Tojiko wasn't entirely sure what it meant. She felt herself relax, however, because whatever the noh had been about, it seemed to have indeed gotten through to her, as it occupied her mind even now. It was all unusual, and Tojiko welcomed it.

“What, what?” Kokoro, however, seemed to have been alerted. “Is Miko okay?” She asked from behind the monkey mask.

Tojiko smiled reassuringly. “She's fine.” Her voice was simple.

Futo tried, and managed, to match Tojiko's smile. “Ah... Yes. There is no reason to be concerned.”

Their conversation changed, going back to what it had been before. On her way out Miko heard them converse. She always did.

       

       

      

       

      Back in her room, Miko had settled at her desk, tired. She had been restless ever since she had returned from the mountain. Day and night, in the distance, she could hear the whispering.

At some point during a late night recital, she flipped suite, bursting up from behind her desk, yelling, _“I am not-”_ Ink spilling, scriptures tumbling to the floor, _“-Going to cross the Sanzu river!”_

An embarrassing episode, and it would take long for her to forget it. It had been a small audience, but regardless, Futo's concerned voice, and the startled faces of the disciples haunted her.

Sighing, she leaned down, her forehead hitting the desktop. She closed her eyes, and her heartbeat pounded erratically in her head. She heard the clattering of the dishes in the kitchen, she heard the footsteps of people in the hallways, she heard voices bouncing of off the walls outside the dojo, she heard-

_Don't forget your toll-_

She had tried to shut it out, but no avail.

_-To the trip across the Sanzu river!_

Whenever she was tired, or stressed, it only seemed to get louder.

Preoccupied, she was a bit late in noticing the approaching steps. She rose her head slowly. That light, eerily effortless stride was unmistakable.

Miko waited still, and let Kokoro knock.

“What is it?” She had grown tired of trying not to sound tired. It was just Kokoro. It was fine.

“Miko?” Her name, for once, used. It had taken some growing used to. “Can we come in?”

Miko thought, it wouldn't make much of a difference right now, anyway. “Sure.”

Kokoro slipped in somehow graciously. “Hi,” She stated, and one would say she seemed a bit awkward. She still struggled to fine-tune her emotions. “We came to see you.”

“I...” Miko looked her up and down. She was the same as always. “I see that, Kokoro dear.” She had always been out of place in the mausoleum, in the way she looked, and in the way she addressed Miko, and in the way she was in fact, a youkai.

“Did you want anything?” Miko opened up for a conversation halfheartedly, as Kokoro said nothing. Although Kokoro could grow either quiet or overbearing at the drop of a hat, Miko knew she always had a clear intention in mind, whatever she preoccupied herself with.

“We wanted to talk a bit,” Kokoro plopped down, her grace lost. “Is that fine?”

“Ah, why not?” Miko scooted away from her desk. It might be a decent distraction, she thought. “What do you have on your mind?”

“Did you really like our play?” Kokoro asked, straight forward, her voice raw. “You said so, and Futo said so, but we don't know if it's really true.”

“Ah...” Miko scratched her head. “I did enjoy it, I did.” She thought back to what Byakuren had said before the performance. “Is it true you wrote it all by yourself?” She had been wondering about that for a while now.

“We did!” With the young lady mask, Kokoro perked up excitedly. “We wrote it all by ourselves!”

“It was... A nice story, Kokoro.” Miko smiled, fatigued, but still, sincere. “I was really impressed.”

“Really?” The monkey mask came back. “Then why? Why do you seem so... Upset?”

“I've just been, well,” How should she put this? “A bit distracted.” Miko aimed for a gracious delivery, but failed.

“Distracted?” Miko knew Kokoro wouldn't accept such a vague explanation. She was always so curious. Curious, and stubborn. “Distracted by what?”

Actually, nothing had changed over the last few days. Perhaps, she had grown a bit more vulnerable as she had tired out, but, what else had happened that had affected her?

“During the performance...” She smiled, knowing her words would come out ridiculous. “Hijiri said something mean to me.”

Hearing herself say it, the words became absurd. It was a bit relieving.

“She did?” Kokoro cocked her head. “But she always says mean things about you. Right?”

“Yeah,” Miko leaned back onto her desk. She tried to relax. “She does, doesn't she?”

“Like when I'm at the temple she always says something mean, like how you are too egoistic, or how you talk down to others, and how I shouldn't listen to what you say, and stuff.” Kokoro rambled.

Miko listened, imagining it easily. It was a bit entertaining an image to her, even. 

“And then,” Kokoro continued, “I come here, and you say mean things about her, like how she’s a hypocrite, and how she’s senseless, and how I shouldn’t listen to what she says-” Kokoro took a deep breath.

“And neither of you never let that bother you, so-” The fox mask made it's appearance. Kokoro's voice sharpened. _“What's different this time?”_

Miko considered lying. It probably wouldn't work though. Her chin sank into her hand as she stared at the floor. “She...”

Miko searched her feelings. She thought back to the last few days of her life.

_You, who do not respect your subjects or your opponents, it is **you** who has no right to lecture **me!**_

_You are nothing like me. I was brought here by people who love me._

_You are up in your tower, looking out at everyone, locked up, all alone. Aren't you?_

       

      

       

“...She said I have no friends.”

Miko sighed into her hand.

“That's ridiculous!” Kokoro sprung from her seat. The fox mask was still there. “You have lots of friends! You're surrounded by them all the time!”

“Yeah,” Miko agreed, but her voice was worn. “It really makes no sense, right?”

_“No-sense-at-all!” _Kokoro insisted. “Futo and Tojiko are always here by your side!” Kokoro raised a clutched fist in the air. “All your disciples, they adore you!”__

Kokoro sat down next to her, and put her hand on her shoulder.

Miko didn't move.

“You have me too, Miko.” Kokoro said, quietly.

Miko listened carefully, to Kokoro's words, and then, to everything else.

The dishes in the kitchen had stopped clattering, the girls on kitchen duty were chatting away over some left-over alcohol, the number of voices echoing between the walls outside had increased, steps against the hard stone pavement; they were supposed to be sweeping up, but she heard them run, and laugh. They conversed, about their day, about the weather, and how they were looking forward to the festivities of fall. Above her head, she listened to the trampling footsteps, many a bit too fast; they weren't allowed to run. Girls passing between each other's rooms before lights' out, they were conversing too, lively, someone was in love, someone had gotten a letter from their parents in the village, someone complained loudly about her legs aching from sitting too long, and Miko realized she knew the name of that last girl, for she always sat in the front, even during the early morning sermons. She always studied diligently, and during the sermons, she never complained.

She listened to the slight, slight evening wind, like a soft cushioning layer around the Mausoleum, only sometimes slipping though the gaps of doorways or into open windows, with a barely audible whistle.

She listened to Futo and Tojiko's voices, up on the top floor, from Tojiko's room. Futo's voice, highly familiar among the many comparatively new sounds, melodious and with an ample vocabulary, lively she was retelling the story like she had promised;

 _“And then, as the Princess laid her eyes on the birds as they settled in the willows, ah, she wept! She wept like a child upon seeing their silhouettes-”_ The sound of her feet, drumming against the floor, quickly, then, **bam** , no more.

Undoubtedly, she was trying to recreate the scene, with choreography and all. The image entered Miko's mind with ease; she heard Tojiko then, hitting her fist against the floor as she likely doubled over in laughter. 

       

Tojiko's laugh, too, was a new, unfamiliar sound.

Then, Miko listened to the sound of her own laugh. First a little, then, a little more.

“Yes,” She said, her body trembling, she closed her eyes. “Thank you, Kokoro.”

And then, before Miko could even notice, the earth had finally stopped whispering. 

Kokoro smiled.

Her endeavors had been successful. 

To Miko, she had repaid her debt.

       

       

       

      

                                                                                                            The End

       

       

      

       

       

      

       

       

      

       

Hello, Huppa here.

The title, “Sever and Shatter” was originally just meant to be a working title, and before publishing I considered many other titles, in particular "Cut me Down" and “Send me to Heaven”, but I got cold feet, and decided to keep the working title that had grown rather familiar to me. However, the truth is that this title doesn't really paraphrase the finished version of the story very well. That is because this story was originally realized as a story that would be just as much about Youmu as it was about Miko, and their two stories would run parallel. The two of them would both have more or less equal development and time dedicated to their stories, and the consequences of the happenings in chapter 1. "Sever" and "Shatter" were meant to refer to the two different stories being told.

As I kept on developing the story, Miko's story ran away with me, and in the end it became a story all about her, with Youmu's story as more of a parenthesis. I honestly feel rather bad about this. I love Youmu and the idea of having drifted further and further away from my original idea is... disappointing. At the same though, it is not surprising. My main motivation was that I wanted to write a story about the Taoists, so that Miko's parts kept growing out of proportion isn't strange.

Sometime in 2012, I think, I first wondered to myself in a passing: what might happen if Miko and Youmu faced of in a fencing match? It bothered me that I couldn't think of _anything_ for the scenario, so I kept coming back to it. I thought, the things the Roukanken cannot things are next to none, perhaps Miko's sword is one of those things? Or not? What kind of outcome would even be at all interesting?

In the meantime, Miko's final comment towards Reimu at the end of SoPM kept nagging at my thoughts. I thought about Yukari, and the Hakurei Shrine, and how bad it was be probably, that Miko's final comments were published. Slowly, the story fell into place, a little bit here and a little bit there, over the next two years. It wasn't anything I was working on consciously, but I eventually decided I'd try writing it down. In reality though, the story kept growing and changing until the very last moment. I think it's natural though, that the story I thought of in 2012 and the story I wrote in 2015 won't be the same. Not just because I'm different, but because my knowledge of Miko's character is different, too. HM changed some things, and even ULiL ended up coming out before the story's completion. Knowing what would happen after my own story's supposed setting made it writing it a lot different.

I had originally wanted the ending to be more about Miko learning humility and such. I wanted her to see that there are things she can't do on her own. However, while drafting the story, I thought about Miko a lot. I realized that she is, perhaps, rather lonely. The ending changed with these thoughts, and I wrote the epilogue and prologue specifically to focus on that.

This is the first time I have written anything of this length. To me, writing ~40,000 words is a huge accomplishment. 40k on its own is one thing, it's more that it's a complete story of that length. It's not something I say comparing myself to others, instead it is my own, very private and humble victory. I struggle with chronic illness, and my life these last 5, 6 years have been rather heavily compromised. When asked, a lot of people who are chronically ill will say that the hardest part isn't always the pain or the fatigue or the discomfort but the idea that your life is being compromised. You have less time, less energy and less chances than people who are healthy. Coming to terms with that is tough, and many become depressed on top of being ill. Personally, in my life, I felt frustrated time and time again when I couldn't do the things I wanted, develop the skills and dreamed of having, and so on. That is why writing this, and having finished it, is my personal victory. Finally, something I did, something I did simply because I wanted to, something I can share with others. For years I enjoyed Touhou fanworks made by others, and how immensely I enjoyed them, and finally I can do something of my own, too.

That is why I want to say, from the bottom of my heart: **Thank You for reading.**

The chances are there were things in my story you didn't like, characterizations you didn't agree with, or implications you didn't care for, and so on. Publishing things like this online can be very scary for that reason, because there will always be people who don't like that thing you've put so much thought and effort into. I was very scared too, but I realized that, in the end, I was writing for myself. If I wrote for the sake of someone else, publishing would lose its meaning. That is because I think that one of the things we should treasure the most in life are the connections made when we bare ourselves to others, sharing our thoughts and ideas, earnestly, without bending to expectations.

      

Lastly, I'd like to say thank you for bearing with me through my slow updating, my very crude depiction of Miko, me simplifying Yuyuko and Youmu's relationship, me totally using Futo and Tojiko for nothing but exposition; and also my over-usage of semicolons. Finally, thank you, thank you, thank you for reading this overbearingly sentimental afterword.


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